Tidal Project
by Brithna
Summary: This project will contain 10 stories based on 10 songs from the album: Tidal by Fiona Apple.
1. Intro and Song 1 - Sleep to Dream

**Inspiration**: Okay, here is how this whole thing got started. On March 8th (my birthday and also my mother's—lucky me!) I was leaving a coffee shop where I had just met my mother to exchange birthday gifts. I had a favorite CD of mine on earlier that morning and turned it back on when I left the coffee shop. Not five minutes down the road I was making a turn and out of the blue-song number 8 came on and I saw a scene in my head of Miranda and Andy at her office window (read #8 and you'll see it too). I almost had a wreck because apparently paying attention to the road really is overrated. So—after that, I dropped all of the rest of my plans for the day and headed home with my crazy idea. Instead of writing just that one story based off that one song-why not do them all? So-that's what I did.

**Summary**: I have taken each song and written a short story based on what I see. Pretty simple. In some of the stories you will not see the actual song mentioned at all. In others you will see it not only mentioned but actual lines from the songs themselves. Each story is to be considered a one-shot although you will see that a few of them relate to one-another in some small way. But seriously—each story stands alone perfectly well and you need not read one

**Thank You**: Peetsden for being my beta and always lifting my spirits when I am not feeling good about what I've written. Your praise for this project on March 13th gave me the boost I needed to continue and made me realize I was indeed headed in the right direction.

**Thank you**: Nancyh59 for popping up with some much needed encouragement when I needed it the most but least expected it.

And Finally...this album means a lot to me and speaks volumes about certain aspects of my soul (go ahead and laugh—I don't care ;o). I hope that you all enjoy this. It was more than a little stressful for me at times as I desperately wanted you all to see what I see and I've had a lot of frustrated moments over how long this has taken me. Getting stumped on one song delayed this project by months…seriously months. But—it'd done now and I feel like a tremendous weight has been lifted off my back! Enjoy!

Title: Sleep to Dream – Song 1

CD: Tidal by Fiona Apple

Beta: Peetsden

Fandom: Devil Wears Prada

Pairing: Miranda/Andy

Rating: NC17

Disclaimer: I don't own Devil Wears Prada or Fiona Apple.

_**Sleep to Dream**_

Andy read the letter for the fourth time and shoved the laptop away. This could _not_ be happening. How could things have gone this wrong in such a short amount of time? Everything had been going fabulous as far as Andy knew. She and Miranda had been lovers for three glorious months and even though no one knew, they could never go out of doors, and the girls had no clue; everything had been going fabulous, right?

Apparently she was wrong because now, now Miranda wanted to end it all. Via e-mail. How fucking mature. There was no way in hell she was going to get off that easy. Sending an e-mail saying '_I simply cannot carry on with this affair any longer. It has become somewhat of a distraction and I fear that it will do us both more harm than good in the end._' and a bunch of other bullshit.

What the fuck…_distraction_? Really? If you call ripping each other's clothes off as soon as the door closes, a _distraction_, then okay. Miranda certainly didn't seem to think it was a _distraction_ when Andy had her sitting on the kitchen counter screaming for half an hour, but okay. Then there were all those times on the living room floor when Miranda was too busy kissing each and every inch of her to make it to a bed. Okay, that could be classified as a distraction in some small way, but in reverse maybe.

Andy picked up the phone and dialed the number that she knew by heart. Miranda answered on the first ring. How ironic for someone that was ready to toss everything they had – away.

"Good evening, Andrea."

Her casual tone really made this all so much better. "Miranda what the hell is this? This e-mail?"

"Andrea, I'm sure you know what it says already. You do not need me to repeat myself."

"No, actually I think I do. What the fuck are you talking about? Distraction? Seriously?"

"Andrea, I will not be an open dictionary tonight. The e-mail says everything I intended it to say."

"Oh yeah, I can totally see that."

"Andrea…I cannot be in love with you. I cannot do this anymore. It will never work."

So, Miranda was in love with her? Well Andy already knew that, she had just never actually _heard_ the words come out of Miranda's mouth before. Fine time to say them now.

"And why is that Miranda? Why can't you be in love with me? Why would this never work? You haven't even tried and you're already quitting!"

"I'm quitting before this becomes too dangerous."

"Too dangerous? I can tell you that I'm no danger to you. You might be a danger to me but I have never been a danger to you. Never." Andy was ready to pull her hair out.

"On the contrary, you are plenty dangerous…because you dream. You dream of something that we cannot have. I know you do. It's written all over your face. You want more than I am prepared to give."

"Oh? When have I ever asked you for more, Miranda? When? Tell me because I sure as hell don't know."

"You want a relationship…something lasting. I do not want that. As I said, you dream of far more than is realistic."

Andy groaned and laid down on the couch. This conversation was likely to kill her. "Miranda yes, yes I dream of more with you but I know I can't have that right now. Maybe never. And even though I want more, I have never asked for it. You know that. In fact the only person around here that's done any asking is YOU! And now, you're running from the very thing that you asked for."

There was silence for a brief moment then Miranda cleared her throat. "What exactly are you referring to?"

"I'm referring to the fact that when we were in Paris and I was busy walking away from my job, who stopped me? You did, that's who. You practically chased me down right there in front of God and everybody! What's worse, you didn't want to stop me from quitting my job. You just didn't want me to quit you! Let's see, what where the words you used…oh yeah "Andrea, don't do this. Leave _Runway_ if you must, but do not do _this_. Do not leave me like this. You must know how badly I need you." Those were your words. And now look. You're running like a fool because you got what you wanted."

"Perhaps I was mistaken in Paris…"

"What? _Mistaken_? You know what Miranda? That was probably the worst thing you could have ever said to me! I hope you have fun hiding from what you want. I hope you can find _comfort_ in the fact that you stopped yourself just in time before you were happy! Go to hell."

Andy shut her phone and threw it against the wall. Good riddance. She sincerely hoped that it was broken. Miranda thought this whole thing had been a mistake. What was Andy supposed to do about that little piece of news? Especially since that was one of the very first questions Andy had asked her before they began this affair.

Miranda had assured her that it was indeed _not_ a mistake and was something that she wanted very, very much. So why the change of heart? Maybe that was just it. Her heart was invested, or becoming invested and it scared her. Miranda was afraid, so instead of taking a leap of faith, she was willing to just throw it all away.

So be it. What could Andy do? She certainly was _not_ about to jump up and beg Miranda to change her mind. Hell no. And what's this dream business? Yes, Andy dreamed of more. She was in love with Miranda so _yes_, for God's sake she dreamed of more! Who the fuck cared? They were her dreams and she could have them if she wanted to. Last time she checked, Miranda could not dictate what she dreamt about.

A pounding at the door startled her. There was no way to know how much time had gone by and here she was crying for God's sake. The knocking continued and Andy got up from the couch, wiping her eyes on her shirt sleeve. It was probably her greasy neighbor trying to ask her out again. Gross. Andy ripped the door open prepared to say 'no' yet again but was met with Miranda's face instead of the greasy neighbor. Fuck.

"Miranda…"

Miranda pushed past her and entered the apartment. "You hung up on me."

"Yes…yes I did."

"You did not answer your phone when I called you back although I can see why now. It looks as if your phone has met an untimely end." Miranda pointed to the broken cell phone on the floor.

"Just like you and me." Andy crossed the living room floor and sat back down on the couch. She was not in the mood to go toe-to-toe with Miranda from a standing position.

"I think I need to explain things better. You did not seem to understand."

Andy let out a long breath and rolled her eyes. "Oh I understand. You were pretty clear Miranda. When have you ever not been? You can't do this anymore. You can't be in love with me. You think this was all a mistake to begin with…blah, blah, blah. I got it."

"Andrea, it's just that you have bigger dreams for us and eventually you will not be satisfied."

"What in the hell is with you and this _dream_ business? You know what I'm starting to think? I'm starting to think it's _you_ that dreams of something more. I think you're the one going to sleep every night just so you can dream of a better reality for us…"

"Stop…"

"No! No, Miranda I don't work for you. It's not that easy anymore. You can't shut me up. You can't stifle me. You can't control how I feel. I'll raise as much hell as I want to over this and anything else that comes to mind!"

"I will not sit here and play mind games with you, Andrea."

"No one is playing a game!" Andy cried out in total frustration. "This is not a game and it never has been. You're just running now. Hiding from the very thing you want only because you're afraid of it. Don't sit here and lie to me, and don't sit here and plead your case. I don't want to hear your bullshit. Honestly, I can't even believe you came over here. It's almost like you cared! But I know better. You don't, otherwise you wouldn't be doing this to me…to us."

"I am doing this before things get out of hand."

"Things are already out of hand." Andy stood up and walked over to the door. "Get out Miranda. Don't look at me like that. Get out." Andy opened it and made a sweeping gesture with her hand toward the empty hallway. "Get out, don't come back and certainly don't worry about my dreaming _habits_ anymore. I won't be going to sleep to dream about you. You can rest easy on that fact. And _please_, do me a favor. Take all the hurt and blame with you. I can't have it in here with me, that's for damn sure."

Miranda walked out as she was told and Andy slammed the door behind her. She leaned against the closed door and prayed for the strength to not chase after Miranda as tears fell. All she wanted to do was open the door and beg Miranda to see what was right in front of her face.

Sleep was certainly a challenge. Andy had spent most of the night pacing the floor and crying. Finally a little past midnight she fell into an exhausted sleep that contained the very dreams she had promised to not have. Hopefully, as time went on, she would learn to do a better job at keeping that promise.

Andy tossed the covers aside and reached for the clock. It was only two so why was she awake? Andy groaned when she heard a pounding at the door. Not again. Her mind immediately went to Doug. It was standard operating procedure that anytime Doug needed a place to crash after a night of partying-he could come to Andy's. Why she had ever agreed to that she would never know. It seemed like _now_ would be a perfect time to end that arrangement.

Andy stumbled out of bed and slipped on her robe. Doug had better be truly drunk or she was tossing him out into the street. The pounding on the door started again, only louder this time.

"Okay Doug, Christ! I'm coming!" Andy ripped the door open and low and behold, it was Miranda. _Again_. "Oh for the love of God…"

Andy rested a hand on her forehead and turned around. "You have got to be kidding me! Did you not understand me when I said 'get out and don't come back'?"

Miranda closed the door and locked it behind her which Andy found odd but was too tired to mention. "Andrea, we need to talk."

"I'm going to bed." Miranda would just have to either wait a few hours or come back again since it was clear that she did not know how to listen in the first place. Andy wanted sleep and she was determined to get it. She made her way back to her bedroom and Miranda followed. Great.

Just as Andy got her robe off and was laying back down, Miranda grabbed her by the elbow. "We need to talk."

Andy jerked away from her "And I need sleep. So I win. This has to be a dream anyway, right? The bad kind, because I promised you I wouldn't have any of the other ones. Although, I must tell you that I've failed already." Andy slipped into bed and threw the covers over herself.

"This is not a dream." Miranda sat down on the edge of the bed.

Since it didn't look like Miranda was going away, Andy sat up against her pillows a little and tried to wake up a bit more. If she was going to be tortured she might as well be properly awake for it. Surprisingly, Miranda handed her the glass of water that was by her bed. Andy started to ask why but Miranda cut her off.

"When you wake in the middle of the night…you always need a drink of water."

Andy took a drink and handed back to her. Could this hurt any worse? Miranda paid far more attention to her than Andy realized. Why couldn't Miranda see that she was in love and that it could be the best thing that ever happened to her? "Thank you."

"Andrea…I don't expect this to change anything but I want to apologize to you. The e-mail was less than childish…and the reasons behind it were even worse. I just wanted you to know that I never meant to hurt you."

Andy banged her head back against the headboard. "Fine. That's fine. Now leave please. Miranda you are killing me, okay? Please, leave me alone so I can figure out how to stop feeling this way. Can you do that?"

"If that is what you wish, then yes, I can do that."

Wait. Wasn't that what Miranda wished for? "Miranda, no. That is not what _I_ wish. That's what _you_ wanted!"

Miranda reached out and put a finger over Andy's lips. "Shh…yes, that is what I wanted and I am a fool. I suppose a large portion of me will always be a fool. Now…I would like to try something." She removed her finger and Andy kept silent.

"I would like to try to dream with you. Perhaps the future you see is possible…could be possible, if we both shared the same dream? I am not very good at seeing the future or a good future at the very least. I always see the bad and prepare for it far in advance."

Andy reached for a tissue and wiped her eyes as her tears fell again. "Yeah, I know. You're great at preparing. You just prepare for the wrong things. You always have."

Miranda took the tissue away from her and continued to wipe her eyes. "I quite agree. Andrea, can you forgive me?"

"Should I _want_ to forgive you?" Good question. Should she forgive Miranda? Who's to say that this very thing wouldn't happen tomorrow, or the next day?

"Darling, I cannot answer that. All I can say is that I apologize and that I would like it very much if we could start over."

Before Andy could protest Miranda leaned in and kissed her gently. Andy returned the kiss but pulled back. There was one thing she needed to know. "Miranda…are you in love me? I need to know the answer to that question. I think you are. I think that whole 'I cannot be in love with you' statement is total bullshit. Are you in love with me?"

Miranda looked down at the floor for a moment then looked intently into Andy's eyes. "Yes. I am in love with you. I would not have chased after you in Paris if I was not in love with you, Andrea." Miranda looked down at the floor again almost as if she was embarrassed.

Andy reached out and turned her head back toward her. "Since then?"

Miranda kissed her open palm. "Since before then. That doesn't change the fact that I am still a fool. In many ways."

"I love you, Miranda. Next time you're afraid of something can you just talk to me…like _really_ talk to me? Because, I can't do this with you again. I can't…"

"I think I can do that. I love you, Andrea." Miranda leaned toward her and gathered her up in her arms. "I love you so much."

Andy wrapped her arms around Miranda's neck and took a deep breath. "Please stay with me tonight. I want to dream with you beside me."

Miranda brushed her hair back and kissed her temple. "I would like that. Maybe you can show me what you see?"

"I will. I will show you every dream I have for us. You will see how good this can be. I promise."

THE END


	2. Song 2 - Sullen Girl

Title: Sullen Girl -Song 2

CD: Tidal by Fiona Apple

Beta: Peetsden

Fandom: Devil Wears Prada

Pairing: Miranda/Andy

Rating: PG13

Disclaimer: I don't own Devil Wears Prada or Fiona Apple.

Sullen Girl

Ah, what a day! Andy made her way up the stairs to her apartment juggling her hand bag, a laptop bag, and her Chinese take-out. If she dropped the first two she couldn't promise to care right now. It was close to mid-night and she was beyond hungry and tired.

Kicking the door closed behind her, she made it to the kitchen table just in time before dropping her precious take-out. That would have been a disaster since she couldn't remember when she had eaten last.

Miranda was gone to Napa Valley for a shoot and _usually_ when she was gone, things were a little more peaceful in New York; but that couldn't be further from the truth this time. At least not in Andy's opinion. It seemed like as soon as Miranda's plane took off two days ago it had just been one thing after another. Thank God Miranda was due back tomorrow. Hopefully things would calm down. At the very least Andy's nerves would be in a better state of 'sane'.

Dropping her other bags on the bed, Andy made short work of undressing. Food could wait a tiny bit longer; right now all she was interested in was a long hot soak in the tub. One of the best things about this new apartment was the huge claw foot tub in the master bathroom.

Naked and essentially ready to drown herself, Andy turned the water on and felt for the right temperature. Ah, center-of-the-sun hot. Perfect. While the tub filled up, Andy went back in search of all the much needed bath-time gear: One laptop, one bottle of red wine accompanied by a glass, one wireless speaker remote, and of course, her cell phone. Certainly _can't_ be without the cell phone.

Andy put the laptop on the closed toilet lid and booted it up then placed the wine, her phone, and the speaker remote on a little table by the tub. Everything was ready. The tub was nearly full so she tossed in a liberal amount of her favorite bath salts that turned the water a light shade of blue.

Testing the water, she realized it was probably too hot but it really didn't matter. If anything, the extra burn would help rid her of the day. Andy took a deep breath and stepped in. It wasn't so bad. Slowly, she lowered herself into the tub, gripping the sides for support on her way down.

She gave herself a second to adjust to the water temperature then reached for the remote and her glass of wine. The right playlist was found and soon the room was filled with the soft voice of Fiona Apple. Fiona's first album was probably Andy's favorite relaxation tool, especially now with this fabulous bath tub. Andy let the sound of the music fill her mind as she sank further into the water.

Generally, she only allowed herself to think about _Runway_ for fifteen minutes once she was in the tub but she could already tell that tonight, whether she liked it or not, it would be all about _Runway_. After all…a lot had been going on lately.

Since their return from Paris, both she and Miranda's lives had changed. Andy was alone. Nate had been gone for five months now and so had all the rest of her friends. To add insult to injury, her parents had practically disowned her because she would not quit her job and come home.

Miranda was alone too, going through a divorce that was plastered across _Page Six_ on a daily basis and _trying_ to figure out how to correct her mistakes with Nigel and her children all at the same time. Then there was Irv of course. Miranda tried to play it cool, like she had won and was untouchable now, but Andy knew better. Miranda was constantly watching and listening for any sign of a new attack.

As for the two of them though, after everything was said and done, it seemed like they had formed some sort of secret bond. Andy could always tell when Miranda had had a rough night and it seemed that the same was true for Miranda. Some mornings Miranda would come into the office ready to throw her coat and bag down as usual, but she would stop suddenly, look Andy straight in the eye and wait for her response. Andy's answer was just a simple nod that yes, everything was okay or as okay as it could be and then the day would start.

Andy's 'check in', as she'd named it, would usually done while bringing the coffee. When things seemed to be going rough Andy would hold the coffee just out of reach and wait for Miranda's affirmative nod. Twice Andy didn't get that nod, causing her to almost drop the coffee. She couldn't believe that Miranda would actually _admit_ in some small way that 'no' things were _not_ alright.

_Enough_. Enough thinking. Andy leaned back into the tub and put her head under the hot water.

This was a horrible idea.

As soon as Andy's head disappeared beneath the water, the first thing she saw was Miranda's blue eyes staring back at her. Andy sat up and rubbed the water out of her eyes, furious.

"Fuck. What in the hell is wrong with me…" she angrily slapped at the water. This had been going on for months and it was starting to get on her nerves. Piss her off. Scare her…all of the above.

Reaching for the remote, Andy flipped through the song list until she found what she needed; the one song that would calm her down. She hit 'play' and 'repeat' then poured another glass of wine, letting the song play through one time, letting the words float over her, soothing her heart and soul.

As it started for the second time she leaned back and rested her head against the back of the tub.

_Days like this, I don't know what to do with myself  
All day - and all night  
I wander the halls along the walls and under my breath  
I say to myself  
I need fuel - to take flight -  
_

God, that couldn't be any closer to the truth. She _didn't_ know what to do with herself. Miranda was gone and she was lost. It was borderline pathetic really. These days Andy felt like she could hardly function without her nearby. And fuel to take flight? Where in the hell would she go?

Nowhere.

She'd had that chance more than once actually but always turned down Miranda's offer of help to find bigger and better things. Andy had no interest in leaving _Runway_. Or was it that she had no interest in leaving Miranda?

Ah, and this part made her want to beat her head against the wall.

_Is that why they call me a sullen girl - sullen girl  
They don't know I used to sail the deep and tranquil sea  
But he washed me ashore and he took my pearl  
And left and empty shell of me  
_

Nigel referred to her as a _sullen girl_ at least three times in two days. Actually he had said 'cute little sullen girl', which was worse. But he wasn't even _here_. All he was getting was vibes off of phone calls. Did she really sound that bad? That lost? That needy?

The rest of it just made her think about Nate and Christian. It was so stupid to have been with either of them. Yeah, there had been a time when she loved Nate but he never really loved her. Not really. He was in love with her only when she did what he wanted her to and acted and looked the way he wanted to her to. That was not love. Andy learned that the hard way.

As for Christian? That had been one of the biggest mistakes she had ever made in her whole life. What in the hell had she been thinking? Oh, right. Anything was better than sitting in her room thinking about how much she wanted to be with Miranda so she decided to go fuck some stupid idiot to wash the problem away. That was a brilliant plan.

The whole mess, Nate and Christian both, made her feel empty. It was like she had given parts of herself away for nothing.

Andy took a deep breath and closed her eyes. This part made her forget all about the empty feeling that was always in her rear view mirror.

_And there's too much going on  
But it's calm under the waves, in the blue of my oblivion  
Under the waves in the blue of my oblivion  
Under the waves in the blue of my oblivion  
It's calm under the waves in the blue of my oblivion_

Miranda Priestly was her own personal Blue Oblivion. All Andy had to do was look into her eyes and nothing else mattered, much less existed. Nothing. When she was with Miranda, Andy became oblivious to all else. All that was left was whatever Miranda needed from her.

Miranda was able to bring her back from the brink and probably didn't even realize it. Or maybe she did. Who knows? All Andy knew was that when her mind started to play tricks on her, and bring out the bad, Miranda's eyes would somehow find her and hold her attention. Andy would look into them and Miranda would nod; then just like that, everything was okay again. Could it really be that simple? Could one pair of eyes be all you needed to feel right again?

Just as the song started over for the fourth time, her cell phone rang. The caller id read: Blue Oblivion.

"Hello, Miranda?" Andy checked the clock on the bathroom wall. It was almost one in the morning.

"Yes, Andrea I…did I wake you?"

"No, no I'm awake. I only got home an hour ago from the office." Even if she had been asleep she would have said 'no'. Miranda had not called her this late in a very, very long time.

"Ah, well good. I just wanted to call…Nigel said you sounded rather _sullen_ on the phone earlier today? I trust everything is going well at _Runway_?"

That wasn't what she meant at all. Andy could tell. This was Miranda's way of asking her if she was okay. "Yes. Everything is okay. I'll be glad when you get back though." Why not admit it?

"Oh? Is Jocelyn causing problems again?"

"No…no it's nothing like that."

"Andrea, are you crying?"

Was she crying? Yeah, she was and she hadn't even realized it. "No…yes. I mean no. Everything is fine. Jocelyn is fine."

"But you…are you fine? Are you well?"

"Yes, Miranda I'm fine too. How are you doing?"

"I am ready to come home."Miranda sighed. "This place is driving me to the edge of criminal insanity. I admit that it is beautiful here but the next time I suggest we do a shoot at a winery, please tell me _no_, and I mean that with all seriousness. I think everyone here has been drunk since the plane landed two days ago. Everyone except _me_ that is."

"Don't worry. Next time I'll tell you 'no'. Why is everyone drunk but you?" Andy felt her heart warm up a bit from her own laughter and the sound of Miranda's voice. That Blue Oblivion feeling was coming back.

"I am not _drunk_ because I…well honestly I can't drink that much at the moment. Medication. Otherwise, I would likely be three sheets to the wind. The incompetence I'm being forced to witness is quite daunting."

Andy wasn't about to ask any further questions but Miranda came back with the answer she wanted before she could say anything else.

"It's my ridiculous blood pressure. Nothing to worry about. If Irv would move to another planet I would be perfectly well indeed."

Andy giggled, "We would _all_ be perfectly well if Irv moved to another planet."

Miranda sighed, "Yes…but we are not so lucky. It is good to hear you laugh though. I was beginning to think something was…uh, broken on your end…" Miranda voice trailed off as she finished the sentence and they were both quiet for a moment.

"No…nothing is broken on my end. Not now."

"I see."

Did Miranda see? Did she know how much she meant to Andy? "Yes. I am…uh…I'm glad you called, Miranda."

"I'm glad I called too, Andrea. I should have called you yesterday."

"Was there something you needed yesterday? I can take care of it now if y…"

"No, no. Calm down. I did not need anything then, nor do I need anything now."

"Oh…well, why are you c…"

Miranda cut her off again. "I am calling because…because I am. Is that not acceptable?"

Miranda was starting to sound like _Runway Miranda_ again so Andy knew she had to stop her before everything went south.

"That's fine Miranda. I just wanted to make sure there wasn't something you needed."

"If I had needed something then I would have told you that to begin with."

Andy rolled her eyes and leaned back into the tub. "Miranda, in case I forget to say this later on, thank you for calling me."

"Hm…yes of course."

"Can I ask you something? Why should have called me yesterday?" Andy was certain she must have cracked her head on the side of the tub. You never ask Miranda to do anything, right? She took a breath and held it while she waited for Miranda to answer.

"Because, I just should have. I…we…talk every single day in some form or fashion…and it was odd to not speak with you yesterday."

This was certainly unexpected. Maybe Andy wasn't the only one that realized how connected they were. "Okay. I understand. In that case then yes, you should have called yesterday. Please do that from now on?" If Miranda could find the courage to _admit_ that she wanted to call Andy for absolutely _no_ reason at all, then surely Andy could ask for that the call to be made?

"That sounds agreeable. Shall I call you tomorrow before I leave this dreadful Valley?"

Andy chuckled. She could tell that Miranda was biting back her own laughter. "Yes. That would be good. If it would be _agreeable_ to you, why don't you e-mail me about anything that you need _before_ you call. That way we can talk about…other things or whatever?" Talk about going out on a limb here. This whole thing must be due to lack of food and sleep.

Miranda cleared her throat. "Yes, Andrea that sounds fine. If I come up with anything I'll e-mail you. Before I leave though…I will call you. You should get some sleep now."

"Okay. You're right. Goodnight, Miranda. I hope I get to see you tomorrow."

"You will. Bring _The Book_ tomorrow night…I will show you some of the proofs on my laptop. Nigel has out done himself this time, even with all the wine he has consumed."

"That sounds good. Do you want me to bring some food?" Andy said as she cross the fingers of her free hand.

"Yes, that's fine. Bring whatever you like. Goodnight, Andrea."

Andy shut her phone and let out a long breath as she set it back down on the table. The same song still played on her laptop and her favorite part was coming up again.

_And there's too much going on  
But it's calm under the waves, in the blue of my oblivion  
Under the waves in the blue of my oblivion  
Under the waves in the blue of my oblivion  
It's calm under the waves in the blue of my oblivion_

Andy listened to the words one last time then turned the 'repeat' off and let the rest of the album play. Her Blue Oblivion had called her. Not for something she needed, but just to talk. Andy smiled and shut her eyes. This time when she leaned her head back into the water she did not hesitate. Andy allowed the visions of Miranda to roll over her like a calm wave and she wasn't afraid of them anymore or what they might mean.

THE END


	3. Song 3 - Shadowboxer

Title: Shadowboxer – Song 3

CD: Tidal by Fiona Apple

Beta: Peetsden

Fandom: Devil Wears Prada

Pairing: Miranda/Andy

Rating: PG13

Disclaimer: I don't own Devil Wears Prada or Fiona Apple.

_**Shadowboxer**_

"Roy, who's playing tonight?"

Roy shifted in his seat and smiled. He was hoping she would ask. It had been three weeks since they had been to the _The Club _for a dose of jazz music.

"That fella you like. Mitchell Downing. Remember him? He's supposed to be bringing the whole band this time." Roy watched her in the rear view mirror.

"Yes, I remember."Miranda said, returning his gaze. "Nine o'clock?"

"Sounds good, Miranda. I'll bring the other car if it's ok with you? This thing is too hard to park when it's crowded"

"Fine."

Roy got out and went around and opened the car door. Miranda disappeared up the steps of the Elias-Clarke building without another word. Roy shook his head as he watched her go. Some things never change. At least tonight there would be a break from the familiar.

_The Club_, as it was called only because it didn't have an official name, was a little place down a dark alley in an older part of the city. It opened during the Prohibition Era and had been quietly passed down from generation to generation. You only got in if you had a membership and even those were mostly obtained because you had a family member vouch for you. Miranda's father had been a member of the club therefore she was a member, and Roy received membership because Miranda had purchased it for him as a gift and personally introduced him to the owners. That is the one and only gift Miranda Priestly had ever given him and he considered himself well rewarded.

At exactly eight-thirty, Roy arrived with the Porsche and just as he suspected, Miranda was standing on the doorstep already waiting for him. This was a clear sign that she was really looking forward to tonight. By eight-fifty they were walking up to the club with cards in hand. Roy entered the current key code into the number pad and showed his card to the doorman. Miranda followed suit and handed her coat and bag over.

_The Club_ wasn't nearly as crowded as Roy had expected but he preferred it that way. It was easier for him to keep tabs on Miranda when he didn't have to look over people to find her. They never sat together of course but he always had an eye on her in case she needed him to run interference. Most of the people that came here left her alone but every now and then some guy would try to approach her. Miranda made it clear to Roy a long time ago that she was _not_ interested in being approached by anyone and he took that as his order to keep people away from her.

Miranda said her hello's to some of the regular guys and made a little small talk with Mr. Pelzar, the owner. Roy was pretty sure that wasn't the guy's real name but when you ran a place like this it was probably a good idea. Roy knew Miranda didn't really care for Mr. Pelzar. He always insisted on calling her 'Priestly' which she hated, and let him know it on several occasions. Mr. Pelzar still called her that no matter how many times she told him not too. Roy figured it was his way of letting her know that _he_ was the boss in here and Roy wasn't about to step into that bowl of Cheerio's.

Once Miranda had her fill of boring conversation she made her way to her usual table in the back corner that was hidden in shadow. Roy made his way up front and shook hands along the way. He liked sitting up close, especially when somebody good was coming. Mitchell Downing had only been here twice before and Roy had been lucky enough to see him both times. The man was a genius at the piano but when he brought his entire band, that was another type of genius all together.

"Why if it isn't Roy Gilbert! I swear I'm gonna start to think you're my biggest fan if you keep showing up to hear me play. How's it goin'?"

Roy shook hands with Mitchell and said, "Ah, you know I am Mitchell. I told you that last time you were here. It's good to see you back."

"Yeah, I was wondering when they would ask me back. You know how Mr. Pelzar is. Tight bastard. I can't do this shit for free."

"I hear ya. He tried to stop carrying Mirada's favorite brandy and she nearly threatened to kill him."

Mitchell laughed "I'll bet. How is she these days? I hear she's one of the only women that even comes in this place. I'm sure she can hold her own though."

"Oh, yeah. She can hold her own, that's for damn sure. Go play us somethin' will ya', before Pelzar throws you out." Roy moved to his usual table and sat down. He didn't like it when people asked him about his boss. To Roy, that was private territory and he would never betray her confidence. After all, that was why he'd lasted this long with Miranda. Trust was everything.

A waiter came over; brought Roy his usual scotch and he settled in for a relaxing evening. Twenty minutes later Mitchell and his band were taking a small break and there was a bit of commotion at the door, which was something you never heard in this place. Roy immediately got up and looked for Miranda. She was sitting right where he had left her and looked lost in thought. Turning his gaze to the door he nearly choked on his cigar.

Andy Sachs was being rescued from the doorman by Mr. Pelzar and ushered over to Mitchell who stood waiting nearby. What in holy hell was she doing here? As luck would have it she was headed in his direction so he could ask her just that very thing.

"Andy! How are ya? You sure are a sight for sore eyes, kid." Andy still took his breath away. That smile was something you never get tired of seeing.

Andy gave him a hug and plopped down in the chair next to him. "I'm doing great, Roy. You look awesome by the way. Slimming down? I can't believe you come here, this place is awesome."

Roy patted his stomach "Yeah, doc said I had to start doing something or die an early death ya, know. Sucks too. I miss my hot dogs."

"I bet you do. It's good to see you. It's been what…four months?"

"Sounds about right. It's good to see you, too. Miranda's here by the way. She's in the back."

Roy couldn't help but chuckle when Andy choked on the drink she'd just acquired. "She's what!"

Roy patted her on the back, "She's here. She sits back there in the corner. You should go say hello."

"Oh, I don't know about that…I..."

"Yeah, you should go say hello. She won't bite you. I think she misses you...started reading _The Mirror_ on the way to work as soon as you left in fact."

"Wow…"

"I'll say. So what brings you here?" Roy figured he would move the topic onto something else besides Miranda since Andy looked like she was about pass out.

"I'm doing an article on Mitchell. He pulled some strings with Mr. Pelzar to allow me in here for one night so long as I swore to not ever give this place up."

"That's really something. They never let anyone in here without a membership."

"Yeah, I'm eternally grateful. I could have just interviewed him on the phone but I wanted to experience him playing in person. The article will definitely be better because of it."

"Mitchell is fantastic. He's got a new singer too. She's something else. In fact here she is." The band started back up with 'What a Difference a Day Makes' and Roy sort of forgot about Andy for a while. The music was just too captivating, not to mention the fact that Ms. Colleen Hunter was killing everyone with her smooth voice. It was almost too much to survive without a drink in your hand.

* * *

For the love of all things Coco Chanel, what is _she_ doing here? Miranda could not believe her eyes. The band decides to take a break and in walks Andrea Sachs. What are the chances of that happening in this lifetime or the next? Miranda had always assumed those odds were next to impossible. In fact she lived on the hope of that very thing.

And Roy? Roy was hugging her like she some old pal of his. Ridiculous. Completely ridiculous. She had half a mind to get up and leave but for some _damn_ reason her feet would not move. Fabulous. Now she was stuck here against her will, forced to watch the girl she tried to remember to forget on a daily basis.

_What _is she wearing? Jeans? In this place? The girl must have lost what little fashion sense she had gained while under Nigel's tutelage. Apparently no one cared what she had on though, which wasn't surprising. Even with the jeans and a hideous, black button down with the sleeves rolled up just a touch, she seemed to attack every fly on the wall. It was that face. That beautiful face and those deep, dark eyes. No one could resist those eyes or that smile. Not even Miranda.

Miranda wondered how she got in here. She knew the name of every person on the membership list and Andrea Sachs was definitely not on the list. Definitely not. She watched her intently for a moment then noticed her pull a small note pad out of her back pocket. Ah. So she was here for _The Mirror_. How thrilling. Miranda thought about leaving again but just as before, her feet did not seem inclined to work.

In light of her new immobility, Miranda ordered another whiskey sour and tried to concentrate on the music. Mitchell Downing certainly deserved an article or two. It seemed like every time she heard his band they sounded better.

Oh, what was happening _now_? Why was she getting up! And _why_ was she wearing those awful boots? Thank God Nigel wasn't here. He would be flopping around on the floor like a fish.

Miranda downed the rest of her whiskey sour as Andrea navigated through the crowd and headed straight for her table. As soon as this night was over Miranda was revoking her membership to this establishment.

* * *

Andy downed the rest of her wine and stood up. It was now or never and besides, Roy was right. What's the worst that could happen? It wasn't like she was under Miranda's employment anymore and it probably wasn't in Miranda to cause too much of a scene here. This place was too refined for that.

Christ, what was it with every guy in here wanting to say 'hello' and shake hands like they had known her for years? Did she have three heads or something? And why did Miranda look like she was either about to bolt and run or simply self-combust right there at her own table? She almost looked afraid and Andy hadn't even done or said anything yet. Hopefully, Andy could get out of this place unscathed.

One thing was for sure. She was not leaving here until Miranda knew how she felt. It was high time Andy stopped bobbing and weaving around the truth.

"Hello, Miranda. May I sit?"

Miranda looked at her like she had just asked Miranda if she wanted to rob a bank. "I suppose. If you must."

Andy sat down in a chair across from her "Well, then I must. How are you?"

"How am I? What sort of question is that, Andrea?"

Before Andy could reply a waiter came to take her drink order. "I'll have another glass of red and, she'll have another whiskey sour." The waiter walked away to retrieve the drinks.

"How did you know that?" Miranda regarded her with that infamous eyebrow raised. "Miranda, I worked for you for nine months. I paid attention. Simple as that."

"Well, thank God. I suppose if all you got from that time was knowing how I take my coffee and my liquor then it wasn't a total waste after all." Miranda narrowed her eyes and glared back at Andy.

"I don't think any of it was a waste and you know I learned more than that."

"Apparently not enough."

And here we go. Andy knew everything would go straight to Paris but didn't know how long it would take. "You're saying that because I left, right? It was _because_ of what I learned that I left. Besides...it wasn't all about _Runway_."

"Wasn't it?"

The waiter came back with the drinks and Andy requested that he just bring the bottle of red to table. She was going to need it. "No Miranda. It wasn't all about _Runway_. It never was."

And of course Miranda quickly steered the conversation in another direction just as fast as she brought it to this point. "I assume you are doing well at your job at the little newspaper?"

"Yes, yes I am but you already know that. Roy tells me you read it every morning in the car." Ha, score one for Andy.

"Roy is getting fired."

"No, he's not. You wouldn't do that. I know you wouldn't." Miranda would never admit it but she needed Roy in her life. He was probably one of the only people that she could completely trust. There was no way she was getting rid of him.

"Have you suddenly become a mind reader? How much money do you make in that profession?"

"I'm no mind reader. I just know _you,_ Miranda. As for the income possibilities, who knows? Have Emily look it up on Monday."

Miranda took a long drink from her glass "My, my you've certainly found your voice since you've been away haven't you?"

Yes, indeed she had. Andy had no more time for hesitation or nervousness in her life. All that was out the window. Well except for this…"Yes, I have Miranda. I hope you like it."

Miranda took another drink and smirked. "I suppose."

For the next forty minutes they sat there talking about everything and nothing all at the same time. Neither of them bringing up anything of real significance. Andy was beginning to think she was going to fail her mission but she kept trying to find her courage. God knows she had enough wine in her to do it. Maybe that was the problem. Her mind kept drifting in and out of so many thoughts that she couldn't concentrate.

Miranda looked so beautiful tonight. She always looked beautiful but tonight she seemed free, even if she still looked scared out of her mind. It was this place. She was relaxed here. Who wouldn't be with the exception of Andy?

Why had she thought this was a good idea? Andy couldn't remember now but something inside her just _knew_ that Miranda felt the same way about her. Something just told her that Miranda wanted her. Always had. Now they were free. Yes, Miranda's divorce wasn't final but Andy was no longer an employee of _Runway_ so that made them both free in a way.

Andy snapped out of her thoughts as the band came back from a break and Colleen took to the microphone again.

"Ah, guys I gotta tell ya it's a really good ego boost for me to sing here. I mean look" She gestured around the room "I'm one of four women in a club full of gorgeous men! Who could ask for more? Oh, and it helps that you clap every now and then too." She paused for a second while everybody laughed and carried on.

"Alright simmer down boys. Much to Mitchell's disappointment I am about to sing something that is a personal favorite of mine…he hates it, but I love it, so I win. Some of you might not consider this Jazz…but as I said before, I love it. I guarantee you by the time I'm finished, you'll love it too, so sit down, shut up and enjoy the ride."

Mitchell piped up from the piano "I really hate Fiona Apple."

Colleen turned on him with daggers in her eyes "Well I love her and you're just jealous! Now…where was I…Oh, yes! Enjoy the ride! Here is a little something called 'Shadowboxer'.

Andy almost choked. That was one of her favorites and it totally made her think about Miranda every time she heard it and there couldn't be a more perfect song to help her find her way tonight.

"Are you going to require medical attention?"

"No, Miranda I'm fine. It's just this song…is really good. Just listen for a second."

As soon as the first lines came up, Andy turned her focus on Miranda to gauge her reaction. There was none and Andy laughed. Of course there wouldn't be.

"And what is so funny?"

"You…it's just you." Andy poured more wine. "This song reminds me of you every time I hear it. Listen." Andy sang the words right along with Colleen and kept her eyes on Miranda the whole time. When she got to:

_And you set my soul at ease_

_Then you let _

_Your love abound_

_And you bring me_

_To my knees_

Andy stood up and moved her chair closer to Miranda. As she kept singing, Miranda busied herself with Andy's wine glass. Apparently they were sharing now that Miranda had finished her whiskey sour already. She let Miranda have one sip in then took her hand, which Miranda did _not_ take back. Thank God.

_You made me_

_A shadowboxer, baby_

_I wanna be ready_

_For what you do_

_I've been swinging_

_All around me_

'_Cause I don't know_

_When you're gonna_

_Make your move_

Miranda rolled her eyes but Andy could tell she wanted to laugh, "Oh, so I turned you into a shadowboxer? I find that highly unlikely and completely ridiculous."

Andy nodded her head and put a finger on Miranda's lips so she would remain quiet.

_If I let you_

_Get too close_

_You'll set your_

_Spell on me_

_So darlin'_

_I just wanna say_

_Just in case_

_I don't come through_

_I was on to every play_

_I just wanted you_

Miranda's eyes just about popped out of her head and she pulled her hand away from Andy's grasp. Andy simply grabbed it back. Miranda running away was not in the cards tonight.

"Andrea, release my hand."

Andy gave up singing and let Colleen do the rest by herself. "No, Miranda. I will _not_ let go of you. I don't really think you want me to. Why don't you just listen to the rest of the song?"

Andy loosened her grip on Miranda and as she predicted Miranda left her hand where it lay. As Miranda listened to the rest of the song, Andy took her wine glass back.

The song finally ended and Andy released Miranda's hand to applaud Colleen's efforts. "She really is something isn't she? That was fantastic." Andy turned her gaze toward Miranda who was blushing and pouring more wine into Andy's glass.

"Yes, I suppose so."

Andy scoffed "Oh, come on! You know she sounds great."

Miranda waved a hand in the air "Alright, she sounds great. Happy?"

"Yes. Very much. Thank you." She gave Miranda her best smile. "Oh, I forgot to answer your question."

Miranda blinked "What question?"

"You asked if you had turned me into a shadowboxer…yes. Yes, you have. Until tonight."

"Whatever do you mean?"

Andy took a deep breath and reached for Miranda's hand again. Miranda did not pull away but gave Andy a hard glare. "I've been swinging around you for a long time Miranda. Trying to avoid getting caught up in you. Caught up in the real you…not the _Runway _yo_u_. When I couldn't keep up anymore, I left."

"Andrea, you are intoxicated."

"That very well may be but it doesn't mean I'm not being truthful. I would never lie about how I felt. How I still feel. I was just trying to not get trapped inside you. But I did anyway. I guess I just couldn't help it. You're too much for me to resist. You always have been. " How brilliant. Just say it all at once then it's over! Andy took a long drink and a deep breath wondering what Miranda was going to do.

Miranda sat for a long moment staring at her and Andy decided to pay attention to the band for a while and let Miranda think of something to say. It was a little hard to breathe when she realized that Miranda was still holding her hand. That had to be good right?

"Andrea I did it on purpose…"

Andy forgot about the band again and turned around sharply. "What? You did what on purpose?"

"Wait just a moment." Miranda tightened her hold on Andy's hand and ordered two coffees. When the waiter scurried off again she started over.

"I did it on purpose. I didn't tell you about the deal I made with Irv. I gave you that nasty little speech in the car…all of it, on purpose. Even the 'smart, fat girl' comment…on purpose. It nearly killed me to say that and it didn't even work."

Andy was speechless. She wasn't sure what Miranda was talking about but the fact that Miranda looked like she was going to cry put Andy slightly off kilter.

"I was trying to drive you away." Miranda let go of Andy's hand and brushed her cheek with her index finger.

So it was true. Miranda did feel the same way. "Why? Why did you try to drive me away? Why didn't you just tell me?"

Miranda rolled her eyes and took the coffees from the waiter. Andy sat in a daze as she watched Miranda pour a ton of cream and sugar into one of the cups and hand it to her. "Yes, Andrea. I know how you like your coffee. I paid attention as well."

Andy nodded her thanks and took a sip. "Answer my question Miranda. Why?"

"Like the song says 'to save the pain of once my flame and twice my burn'. I was losing my resolve and I thought if I dared to venture out…you would eventually leave. So why not make you leave before I could allow you to really hurt me?"

"I would have never hurt you."

"And I would have never hurt you…but it seems we never gave ourselves a chance to see that." Miranda turned her attention to her coffee and the band.

Andy followed her move. What an interesting turn of events. Andy took a deep breath again and felt a warmth spread up her arm as Miranda laced her fingers with Andy's. Could this be the beginning that Andy had been praying for? But wait. Just because Miranda felt that way back then did not mean she still felt the same way about Andy now.

"Miranda…do you still feel the same way?"

Miranda looked at her with what was almost amusement in her eyes "You mean am I still in love with you?"

Oh, _hell_. She had not expected Miranda to say that. "Yes…yes, I suppose that is what I am asking."

"Andrea, yes I am still in love with you. I tried to not be, but I simply cannot avoid it. As you said earlier, you are too much for me to resist." Suddenly Miranda stood up. Andy started to move but Miranda put a hand on her shoulder and leaned down, whispering into her ear. "I'll be right back. Don't leave."

Okay then. Andy downed the rest of her coffee and watched as Miranda gracefully moved through the crowd. She found Roy and had a brief conversation then was on her way back. Several men stopped her on her way, but she politely brushed them off, never taking her eyes off Andy.

Miranda sat down and took up Andy's hand again "Andrea…"

"Yes?"

"Come home with me tonight. Come home with me…I need you. I need you as my lover, my friend, and much more. Just come home with me tonight. Please? Roy is taking the car. We can catch a cab."

"No more boxing? No more running or driving each other away?"

"No…no more. Ever."

Andy stood up and pulled Miranda to her feet. "I think that's probably the smartest idea you've ever had Miranda. Let's go."

THE END

Note: I really enjoyed doing this one. Putting Roy in there was pretty cool since I personally haven't read anything from his POV. I'm sure there are fics out there – but I've not seen one. I think one day in the future I'll try to do something with him. He's a pretty cool in my opinion.


	4. Song 4 - Criminal

Title: Criminal – Song 4

CD: Tidal by Fiona Apple

Beta: Peetsden

Fandom: Devil Wears Prada

Pairing: Miranda/Andy

Disclaimer: I don't own Devil Wears Prada or Fiona Apple.

Criminal

Miranda ripped the door open to her hotel suite and slammed it hard enough to knock a picture off the wall. Oh well, who cares? Let Elias-Clark pick up the tab. How in the _hell_ could that insolent girl just walk away like that? Did she not realize what she had just given up?

Miranda paced the room, walking over every inch ten times then kicked off her heels and walked it all over again ten more times. There was just _no_ way this was happening. How insane do you have to be to walk away from something like this? Everyone wanted this. Millions of girls would kill for this. Therefore, Andrea _must_ be insane, that was the only logical explanation Miranda could even comprehend. Completely and totally insane.

Miranda was going to ruin her. She would have to move to Alaska to find a job by the time Miranda was done with her. Andrea thought she knew so goddamn much about what she wanted out of life. Well that was good because she was about to find out how truly hard it was to make it in the real world. Let her brilliant, better than everyone else attitude be put to good use for someone else! She would be in the unemployment line for the _rest_ of her natural born life when this was over.

And her phone? Throwing it into that fountain? How mature. That showed such character. She would make sure Andrea didn't receive her last check for that little display. Of all the things to do. Walking away, tossing her phone away, leaving everything, leaving _Miranda_… Miranda stood still for a moment as she ran that last thought through her head again. No, no, _no_. She refused to have that thought. Was there a delete button, a backspace button for your brain? No. Damn it!

Miranda opened up the doors to her balcony and took a deep breath. Certainly not the fresh air she needed but it would do. She took a few more deep breaths and started to slip out of her jacket when something fell out of the small pocket. It was that damn list she had used against Irv. Miranda picked it up and glanced over the names she already knew by heart. How would Irv feel if he found out that half these people would probably _not _have moved along with her if his plan had succeeded? Oh well, hopefully he would never get the chance to find out. Miranda crumpled up the paper and threw it behind her.

Aspirin, she needed Aspirin. The headache she was getting was going to end up being beyond horrific. Miranda went into the bathroom and tore through a bag on the vanity. Finding the pills, she downed them with tap water and stared herself down in the mirror. She looked like shit. Complete and total shit.

Miranda slammed her hand down on the counter "Fuck!". Running her hands through hair, she turned, walked a circle around the bathroom then stood back in front of the mirror. "This is fucking crazy! Everything was going so well! How did all this happen?" Miranda threw her hands up in the air and stalked out of the bathroom. She needed a drink and she needed to get out of this room. Grabbing her jacket, she put her shoes back on and headed downstairs to the hotel bar. Just like the cursing, this move was completely uncharacteristic of her but Miranda knew she would go crazy if she stayed in this isolation much longer.

Thank God pretty much everyone even closely associated with fashion was attending various parties throughout the city. This meant she could drink alone and in peace. No one would dare approach her anyway. No one had the balls to.

Two shots of whiskey and three glasses of wine later she was feeling much better. She knew she would regret this in the morning but that was what aspirin was for, right? Just as the bartender came to check on her she felt a hand on her back and someone was saying "I'll have what she's having." Who in the fuck was this? She whipped her head around to tear into the idiot who dared lay a hand on her only to find Nigel Kipling staring back at her.

"Nigel, I am not in the mood for a scene here. Please leave me alone. We will discuss your situation when we get back to New York."

Nigel waved her off and sat down as the bartender brought them their wine. "How long have you been sitting here? Or should I say, how many drinks have you had?"

Miranda looked him up and down. Who does he think he is? "I see no reason to for you to ask such questions. What is it that you want?"

"I want to have a drink with my friend. I'm tired of the parties and you look like you could use an ear."

Miranda scoffed "Did James Holt bring some of his infamous punch all the way to France, or have you been smoking something? How could you _possibly_ want to sit next to your _friend_ after what I did to you today?"

Nigel took a sip of wine and stared at the countless bottles of liquor displayed in front of them. "Miranda…that will all work itself out in the end; I have no doubts about it."

Miranda swung her head around to look at him and regretted it. A little too fast maybe? "Oh? Really? How could you possibly know that Nigel? "

"Because I know you. I know what kind of relationship we have and I trust that. I may not like what has happened but I trust our relationship."

"You are too trusting my friend. As the one and only Patty Hewes says: 'Trust No One'. You would do well to remember that."

"You're drunk Miranda."

"Not nearly enough. This has quite possibly been the single worst trip to Paris I have ever had in my life. Hell…trip _anywhere_."

"I agree. Maybe you should switch to coffee?" Nigel moved to take her wine glass.

"Don't you dare. I would sooner step on your neck with this heel than let you tell me what I should and should not be drinking right now."

Nigel pushed the glass back toward her. "Ooookay then. Have it your way."

"I usually do, don't I?"

"Miranda…care to tell me what is going on? Because I know this," he motioned toward her with his hand "is not all about me or Irv or even your bastard soon-to-be ex-husband."

"And how in the fuck do you know _that_ Nigel?"

"Okay now you're scaring me. You actually said _fuck_ in public."

"This is hardly public, now answer my question."

"Well for one, what you did to me today was purely business. It hurt like a bitch but it was business and you can hardly be too _fucked_ up about that. Even I can't. Secondly, you really don't give a damn about your husband. You know as well as I do that he was all wrong for you to begin with. You care about your girls and how this will be for them, you don't care about Stephen. So what is it?"

Miranda swung her head back around to Nigel, this time a little slower since she was beginning to wonder if it was possible to fall off of a bar stool without anyone else noticing. Probably not. "It's quite obvious isn't it? I'm a criminal, Nigel. A goddamned criminal. I have committed one of the worst sins…even worse than what I did to you. I need another drink." Miranda waved at the bartender and motioned to her wine glass. He rolled his eyes and refilled both their glasses.

"You really need to stop drinking. But then again maybe not because if you stop drinking, you'll stop talking and I want to hear every word of this. Now what is this criminal nonsense?"

"You're right; I don't need to stop drinking. Of course, it is not something I usually advocate but it's the only thing that will make these crazy thoughts go away."

"I don't think it's working."

"Me either."

"So tell me. What is it, damn it. Just rip the proverbial band-aid off and tell me. You'll feel better if you do."

"You are _such_ a liar." Miranda was silent for a moment very intent on studying the stained glass patterns behind all those delightful bottles of liquor. How beautiful. Stunning really. Miranda shook her head and took another sip of wine. Might as well tell him. He wouldn't believe her anyway so it seemed safe enough. "Nigel, she left."

"Andy? Yes. I know. I was right behind you in the next car, remember? I practically saw the whole thing. That's what's got you so upset? Seriously?"

"Good. I'm glad you don't believe me."

"No, I don't. Andy leaving makes you a criminal?"

"Yes, it does. It really does Nigel. I think I reached a new level of bitch today. And to think…I thought I could do no worse than when I told her she was the 'smart, fat girl'."

Nigel regarded her with a weary stare. "Yes, she told me about that. Frankly, I was surprised you said something like that to her. She was special. In a good way."

Miranda dropped her head and looked at the bar, studying the wood grain. "Yes she was…and now she's gone."

Nigel waved a hand in the air "Well Miranda if it really means that much to you then go change her mind. You've never done it before…asked someone to _not_ quit, but hey, there is a first time for everything."

"Now I know you've been smoking something. Nigel, I can't do that! She wouldn't come back anyway. If there is one thing I know about Andrea Sachs it's that she does not _change_ her mind."

"She might. You know she worships you. Your attempt to stop her might very well make her faint from happiness. You never know."

"Ha! You really don't know what you're talking about do you?"

Before continuing, Nigel ordered some coffee and a tray of hors d'oeuves. Apparently he decided, without her consent, that she had finally reached her limit. So be it. She would probably thank him later.

"Now. Back to your last statement, no I don't know what you're talking about because you're really not making any sense, darling."

"I know…I know. I haven't been making any sense for quite a while. You know I was just waiting. I was just waiting…"

"For what? Here…drink this and for God's sake eat something. You need something in your stomach to soak up all the poison you just ingested."

"Alright, alright stop badgering me. Now, where was I?"

"You were saying something about waiting?"

Miranda gestured wildly in the air, "Oh yes!...yes. Waiting. I was waiting for Stephen to leave. I knew he would eventually." She slapped the bar top. "I just didn't know it would be precisely _now_. It put me in the worst mood, and to complicate matters she came in my room just after I found out. What a complete mess."

"Well go on, tell me. What happened?"

Miranda took a drink of coffee and popped a bite of food into her mouth. This was probably the most fattening thing she had put in her mouth in months. "What _happened_? I was a weeping mess, that's what _happened_. And she was so…_her_. You know. So sweet and caring. And I bit her head off of course. She most likely thinks I was crying for Stephen and that of course was _not_ the case. You're right. I could give a shit about him. Regardless…" she took another drink and another bit of food. This stuff was pretty good. "I bit her head off, and then there is that mind-numbing speech in the car. That was the last straw, so to speak. I've been horrid to her from day one really."

"But that's really no different than you treat any other assistant." Nigel chuckled lightly until Miranda turned her death glare on him.

"No…this _was_ different. She was different. Very different. And I've fucked up. She'll never come back to me now. Never."

Nigel cleared his throat and sort of went pale. Ah, he finally figured it out. Thank God. Miranda was wondering if she was going to have to rent a plane and have it written in the sky in huge letters 'I'M IN LOVE WITH ANDREA SACHS'. Oh, shit. Shut up brain! Where is that goddamn backspace button when you need it?

"So, um…when you say 'come back to me'…you don't mean _Runway_ do you?"

Miranda took a deep breath. Time for the truth. You can do this. You can do this. The first step is admitting you have a problem, right? "Yes. That is precisely what I do _not_ mean Nigel. I've ruined it though, so it really doesn't matter now does it? My evil deeds have cost me the greatest thing. I don't even have a good defense. There are no excuses…"

"Whoa."

"Yes, _whoa_. Exactly. I can't even redeem myself in this. It's done. I've gone too far."

Nigel sat silent for a minute just staring at her face. She turned back to the pretty stained glass and tried not to focus on the fact that she was near tears. That would not do. Especially since she was starting to sober up a little.

"Miranda…I don't know what to say. I had no idea. I had no idea you were…well I don't know. Gay?"

"Darling, I don't have any term for this other than to say that I am…that girl is…God, I don't know. This is just my punishment. For _every_ sin I have _ever_ committed." Nigel put his hand on her shoulder and she didn't shrug it off. What's was the use?

"Christ, Miranda…I've never seen you like this. I mean, really I think the answer is pretty simple here. You need to go talk to her. You need to tell her. I mean…Thinking about it for a minute makes me think she might feel the same way."

"Oh, I know she does."

Nigel spit coffee into the napkin he already had in his hands. "You what! She what!"

"Yes. I know she does." Miranda stated rather confidently. "A few weeks ago I was at the office late. Everyone was gone. Everyone. I needed a file and I knew she had it somewhere in her desk. I opened her file drawer and there it was. A notebook. I tossed in on top of her desk to reach what I needed and it fell open. It was her writing…cover to cover. I couldn't help myself. I sat down right there and read every bit of it. I swear to God Nigel if she doesn't write a best seller one day the world will be missing out. Anyway, I burned this part into my memory and I doubt I will ever forget it. Ever. She said '_Last night Nate told me –in case you're wondering, the person who's calls you always take, that's the relationship you're in. I hope you two are very happy together- and guess what? I wish it was true. I wish we were. I'm tired of fucking denying it. I want her_.' That's it. Word for word."

Nigel gasped and Miranda toasted him with her coffee, smiling bitterly.

"Holy shit, Miranda. Holy shit."

"Indeed. So you see I have truly fucked up my dear."

"No…no, you haven't. You can fix this." Nigel got a panicked look on his face and glanced at his watch. "You can. Come on." Throwing a hundred dollar bill on the bar, Nigel climbed off his bar stool while Miranda looked at him like he had three heads.

"Nigel, are you mad? What are you doing?"

"I'm not letting you waste this. Let her leave _Runway_ but you have to fix this. For both of you. Come on." He didn't wait for her reply, he simply jerked her off the bar stool and started dragging her out of the bar.

"Nigel! Let go of me!"

"Absolutely not. I'm not letting you do this. I've never seen you like this before and I'm not going to watch this slip away from you. Not when you both feel the same way. Come on." He kept dragging her down the hall to the elevator while she kept protesting.

"Where are we going? Let go of me!"

"You're going to her room. She's still there packing. I know she is. You're going in there and you're not coming out until you've told her everything!"

They were in the elevator now and Miranda felt a little sick. How did this happen? How could she tell her _now_? After everything that happened? "Nigel I cannot do that. I can't."

"Oh yes you can."

Three seconds later they were standing in front of Andrea's door. Fabulous. She was either going to throw up or pass out or both. This was just great. Miranda whispered, so Andrea couldn't hear them outside "I can't do this!"

Nigel hissed back at her. "_Yes_, you can! You said so yourself that you want redemption. Here's your chance. Now just get in there and rip the band-aid off, okay?"

Miranda was sure she was in shock now. There was no other way to describe this feeling. She was scared shitless yet completely confident all at the same time. Or at least a small part of her was. Wasn't she the best at getting what she wanted? She wanted Andrea. Andrea wanted her. How hard could this be? "Alright. Get away from the door. I'm doing this now." Miranda knocked on the door and Nigel scurried off down the hall to a safe distance.

The Gods must have been smiling down on Miranda at that moment because Andrea opened the door right up. Oh, God.

Her eyes flashed hot with anger and she started to shut the door instantly, but Miranda put her hand out. "Andrea. Wait."

"Miranda, what do you want? Why are you here?"

Miranda took a step into the doorway, but didn't enter the suite. She could still see down the hall and turned her head quickly, looking at Nigel. He waved his hand forward frantically. She nodded and turned back to Andrea.

"I'm here to rip a band-aid off."

"_What_?"

There was just no way to describe the look on Andrea's face now and there was just no way to re-explain. Miranda closed the distance between them and took Andrea's face in her hands and kissed her. Down the hall Nigel was propping himself up against the wall to keep from fainting.

Miranda kissed her harder and finally felt Andrea relax against her and kiss her back. Miranda pulled away, sucking on Andrea's bottom lip as she did so. "I've been waiting to do that for a long time." Miranda wrapped her arms around the girl's waist, afraid that she would run off again.

Andrea didn't run off again and she didn't reply with words. She simply stepped back enough so that they were both well inside the suite and Miranda kicked the door closed behind them.

THE END


	5. Song 5 - Slow Like Honey

Title: Slow Like Honey – Song 5

CD: Tidal by Fiona Apple

Beta: Peetsden

Fandom: Devil Wears Prada

Pairing: Miranda/Andy

Disclaimer: I don't own Devil Wears Prada or Fiona Apple.

Note: This song gave me issues. I knew what I wanted but had a pretty hard time getting it out of my hands and onto paper. Since that was the case –I am still not fully satisfied with this story and…after Peetsden worked so hard on it….I might have messed with it AGAIN. (Sorry Peet) But! I hope you all enjoy it in spite of my unhappiness and constant re-working...lol...yikes.

_**Note: This song follows after Song #2 Sullen Girls!-SURPRISE! **_

_**Slow Like Honey**_

Miranda got up from her chair and stood at the window tapping her lips with her index finger. It was Friday, it was hot, and so far it had been a horrible day. Miranda was ready to get the hell out of this godforsaken city. She had plans to spend the weekend in the Hamptons alone and was seriously thinking about leaving work early. Why not? She was the boss, right? Surely the boss could do such a thing every now and again.

There was only one problem. She actually wasn't going to be alone. Andrea was coming for the weekend too. Which was fine and the fact that the twins wouldn't be with them this time wasn't a problem at all. It was _all_ about work and completely and totally normal and acceptable. Yes…totally fine, normal and acceptable.

No, it was _not_ fine and it certainly wasn't normal or even close to acceptable. Not in the least.

For months now things had been getting a bit complicated, and that was probably a gross understatement. It all started with those eye piercing conversations they seemed to have on a daily basis which had ending up teaching Miranda more that more could be communicated via the eyes and with a nod, than with words. It was certainly a challenge though, because just when Miranda thought Andrea's face read like an open book, she was proved wrong. _That_ was definitely something Miranda wasn't used to, but for some strange reason it was very important that she master this, so Miranda kept trying.

This turning point had come a few months ago when Miranda was in Napa Valley for a shoot. On the second day, Nigel commented that Andrea sounded like something wasn't quite right. Miranda wanted to know why, _had_ to know why; so she picked up her phone without hesitation and made the call that would change everything.

Before Miranda went to sleep that night, she knew that even if Andrea never mentioned wanting her to keep calling her, she would have anyway. How many bosses do you know of that do that with their assistants? Probably none, but it couldn't be helped. She enjoyed it too much. It made her happy and since there were so few things in life that genuinely made Miranda happy, she was sticking with it whether it was appropriate or not.

But now? Now they weren't just talking on the phone. They were spending time together. A lot of time together. There were dinners at the townhouse with the twins and sometimes without. There where late nights after Andrea delivered _The Book_, movies, school plays and trips to the Hamptons with the twins; all in the glorious name of _work_.

"Miranda…Miranda?"

Miranda shook off her daydream and started to turn her head toward the voice behind her but suddenly thought better of it. She knew without a doubt that she was blushing.

"Yes, Andrea, what is it?"

She felt Andrea step closer and lower her voice. "I wanted to talk to you about this weekend. You haven't looked at your e-mail and I need to talk to you about this."

Miranda took a deep breath and turned around. No, she had not checked her e-mail for a solid hour. She had been too busy staring out the window thinking about Andrea instead of doing her own job.

"Yes, yes go on. What is the problem?"

Andrea checked behind her to make sure Emily was deep in conversation on the phone. She knew as well as Miranda that no one could know about these weekends away nor anything else they did outside of work. They never discussed it, it was just a given. Miranda thanked God that Andrea was smart enough to realize this. Then again it was also another worrisome reminder that what was going on between them was anything but proper.

"There is no problem. I just wanted to suggest that you bring your iPad with you this weekend."

Miranda immediately started to protest. She knew right where this was going. "Andrea, I…"

Of course, Andrea cut her off. "Miranda, I know you don't like to check _The Book_ on your iPad but I really, really think you should give it a try. I think once you got use to it, you would find it beneficial."

Miranda gave her a hard look. It was starting to get exponentially harder to not give in to Andrea's suggestions but Miranda had to least make some sort of faint effort to resist. "And what are these _benefits_ you speak of? I assume you have a list prepared no doubt."

"Only one. You can check _The Book_ from _anywhere_ without having to worry about it being delivered. I think that's reason enough. Don't you?"

Miranda stood there for a moment trying to think of reasons to say 'no'. Honestly, Andrea was right. She could indeed check it from anywhere and make the notes right there on the screen. She wouldn't have to worry about anyone having to deliver it to the townhouse anymore which meant that she wouldn't have to worry about anyone seeing Andrea there when she herself wasn't the one designated to deliver it on a particular evening. Wait. That should not be a factor. But what if it was?

"Are you trying to tell me that you don't want to deliver _The Book_ anymore?" Miranda tried to keep her face as hard as stone but she knew she failed immediately.

Andrea looked behind her again then rolled her eyes when she turned back to Miranda. "No, Miranda, that is not what I'm saying at all. I'm saying it would be easier on you. I can still…come over you know. You can still ask me to come over without using _The Book_ as an excuse."

An _excuse_? It wasn't an _excuse_. Okay, maybe it was but that was beside the point wasn't it? And since when did she start letting Andrea get away with that eye-roll thing? "Fine. Fine, I think I'm leaving in a minute. Pack it in my bag." Miranda waved a dismissive hand in the air and sat down in her chair hardly able to believe she had just given in to Andrea so quickly. It was obvious that some old habits can in fact die rather easily.

"I thought we were leaving tomorrow?"

"No…I need to go tonight. Roy can bring you in the morning as early as you wish. Honestly, I'm tired and I just need to get out of here. Besides, I want to do a little shopping. I was thinking about some scallops for dinner tomorrow?" Miranda raised a questioning eyebrow to Andrea. Miranda always cooked when they went away or let the girls take care of it with a monstrous amount of supervision.

Andrea smiled and Miranda's heart stopped. That smile was going to be the death of her one day. "That sounds great. Don't forget my candy bars." Andrea smiled again and scurried out of the office leaving Miranda breathless. Candy bars. Yes, she was already completely wrapped around Andrea's finger.

* * *

Nearing the end of her journey to the Hamptons, Miranda received a phone call that would almost cause her to turn around and come home.

"Hello?"

"Miranda. It's me."

"It's a good thing I have caller id; otherwise, I would be completely in the dark. What's going on Andrea? Did Emily finally eat something?"

"No…not quite. Only one piece of cheese today. How far away are you?"

"I'm nearly there. Fifteen minutes from _Citarella_ in fact. And yes, I will remember your candy bars. Now, what is it?"

"Okay, can you hear me? I locked myself in your bathroom."

"Why in God's name did you do _that_? I have a feeling I should just turn around now and start firing people."

"No. Don't turn around. I'm serious; just listen to me for a second."

"Oh, I will. It seems that's _all_ I do these days. Get to the point, dar…Andrea." Holy God. Darling? That almost came right out of her mouth without a second thought. Hopefully Andrea hadn't noticed. Then again Andrea noticed everything. That was why she was so good at her job.

"Okay, please don't freak out but Kate had to back out. She's got some issues…issues that you wouldn't want to deal with on a shoot."

"You have _got_ to be kidding me. She can't lay off the drugs long enough to do any kind of legitimate work? Wait a minute, where is Nigel? Why is he not the one calling me about this?" Yes indeed. Usually he was the one that broke this sort of news to her.

"Well…I asked him to let me do it because I knew if he told you, you would turn around and come back and that's not what I want."

Oh, so now it's about what she wants? Of course it is. That was bound to happen sooner or later because apparently Miranda's back bone had disappeared. "I'm waiting."

"Okay…I have an idea. Please hear me out."

"I'm still waiting." Miranda was drumming her fingers on the console. Andrea had five seconds to get to the point or she really was turning around, regardless of what Andrea _wanted_.

"Remember the girls going on and on about that new vampire movie that's coming out soon? It's based on the book they've both read thirty times?"

"Yes." Miranda decided to keep her answers short otherwise she would start ripping Andrea's head off.

"Well, they just finished filming. I think you should get the two main actors in here and put them on the front cover. Put them all over the whole magazine, Miranda."

"Absolutely not! Have you lost your mind? I will not have teenage vampires all over my _Runway_!" This was it. This was her breaking point. "I think you really have hit your head on the pavement, Andrea. I suggest you go to the hospital. I'm sure there is some sort of surgery they can perform to bring you back to your senses before tomorrow morning."

"Miranda, this movie is going to be huge. I'm telling you, huge. Beyond huge. They can hardly keep the books on the shelves as it is. If you put them on the cover of _Runway_, you'll be the first. I called their agent and they haven't received any offers like what _Runway_ can give them. She assured me that if we made them an offer they would take it. I'm serious. You need to do this. Irv will go off the deep-end over how much money this will bring in. You won't hear a word out of him about the budget for the rest of the year."

"You've got this all figured out, haven't you?"

"Well _you're_ the one that said I could do anything, right? So I am. I know this will work. I'm bringing a binder of their head shots and some promotional photos, so you can at least see what they look like. All you would have to do is depict a few scenes from the book and _bam_, instant success. I promise you."

"Andrea…you did all of this on your own?" This girl was a miracle on legs. For more than one reason.

"Yes, Miranda, I did all of this on my own. I didn't want you to come back. You need some time away. This will work. I'm telling you this _will_ work."

Andrea wanted this weekend away just as much as she did. That was crystal clear. "Bring everything you have. Bring a copy of the book with the scenes marked. I'm pulling into _Citarella_ now. I've changed my mind about the scallops…I'm picking up some tortellini. Gorgonzola or sun-dried tomato?"

"Gorgonzola. So, does this mean you'll do it?"

"No. It means I'll _think_ about it. Tell Nigel I'm working on an idea and I will fill him in as soon as I make a decision. That's all."

Miranda hung up the phone and parked the car. How bizarre is it that you can go from freaking out to discussing pasta choices all in the same conversation?

* * *

That night, sleep for Miranda was almost unattainable. When she _did_ finally fall asleep she had dreams about a certain drugged-out model getting eaten by vampires. It wasn't pleasant but it made Andrea's idea sound a little more appealing. God, if anyone knew that she was actually considering dedicating an entire issue of _Runway_ to the whims of her _assistant_, they would have her committed.

Giving up on sleep, Miranda threw on some lounge pants and a thin sweater and headed outside with a cup of coffee and her iPad. It was still dark outside but with the flip of a switch the entire outdoor living area was flooded with soft light.

She soon grew tired of the iPad and settled in to watch the sky lighten up with the dawn. Why couldn't every morning be like this? There was just something truly amazing about watching the Earth wake up. Especially when the only sound you heard were the waves rolling out over the beach. Miranda was firmly set on retiring here. If she ever retired that is. All she could really imagine was dying right there at her desk while looking over countless proofs for yet another issue. How dramatic.

The whole thing hinged on whether or not she could actually let go of it all. Could she really sit out here every day for the rest of her life and not go stark raving mad knowing that someone else was reigning over her kingdom?

If she had someone here with her to share this, the idea might at least be more plausible. She couldn't sit out here alone for long, especially if her children were grown and off on their own. That wouldn't work. She would need more of a reason to be here than just to watch the world wake up every morning.

Miranda could think of only one name that would fill that need. Perhaps it was time to find out if that was a possibility?

_Speaking of_, Miranda heard noises behind her through the open doors of the house and knew that Andrea had arrived. The girl wasn't one for being quiet. Miranda checked her watch. It was only eight-thirty. How many donuts had Andrea given Roy as a bribe to bring her out here this early?

Miranda looked down at her attire and wished she had put on her robe over this extremely casual outfit. This would officially be the worst thing Andrea had ever seen her in. Oh well, it was too late to worry about that now. Miranda sat up straight in her chair when she heard Andrea's voice. She was on the phone and she undeniably angry. Please let it not be anything critical. Now that she was here, Miranda didn't want to have to pack up to go handle yet another debacle.

Miranda stayed silent as Andrea came outside, continuing to talk on the phone without acknowledging her presence. Something was very wrong and from what she had heard so far, Andrea was on the phone with Nigel. Fabulous.

"No, Nigel. I told you last night…yes, damn-it." Andrea unclipped her hair and ran a hand through it. Miranda held her breath. What a simple yet absolutely beautiful gesture.

"Like I told you last night, my answer is still _no_, just like it has been every weekend for a month…Oh my God! You must have cotton in your ears. What part of _no_ do you not understand, Nigel? I'm not interested!"

There was a minute of silence as Andrea listened to whatever it was that Nigel had to say. It was obvious this call was of a very personal nature.

"Oh, whatever. I get out plenty trust me…no…no. I don't care how cute he is!"

Oh, so this was about a man. Miranda instantly felt a flood of jealousy fill her chest. She had never heard Andrea mention a man in her life but that didn't mean it wasn't a possibility. Although, if she was reading this conversation correctly, it didn't sound like Andrea was interested in whatever Nigel was offering.

"Jesus, I told you I am not involved with anyone…no, I'm not; but I _am_ busy. Way too busy. I have other things going on okay."

For some crazy reason Andrea picked that particular moment to turn around and look right at Miranda. What was _that_ supposed to mean?

"I just have other things going on; please leave me alone about this. I really, really, really appreciate you trying to fix me up all the time but get a clue. I've turned you down every time! I have to go. I'll see you on Monday….No, you can't come over because I'm not home…yeah, yeah. I'm hanging up now. Bye."

Andrea shut her phone and threw it onto a chair. Miranda cleared her throat "Do you want to talk about it?"

Andrea turned around and stared at her with the strangest look in her eyes. Miranda had seen that look a few times before but had never been able to decipher what it meant. "No. I need a minute."

"Go change then. There's coffee in the kitchen."

A short time later Andrea joined her again in her own set of lounge pants and t-shirt. "Hi. Sorry about that phone call." She said as she sat down in a lounge chair next to Miranda.

"You've been turning down Nigel's blind date offers?" She had to ask. She needed to know.

"Yes." What a simple answer to such a _complex_ question.

"Why are you turning down his offers? You shouldn't feel like you have to spend so much time with the twins just because they ask you to."

Andrea took a big sip of coffee, "Miranda…I just am okay? And I know I don't have to…spend time with you. But I want to."

Miranda noted how she said 'spend time with you' instead of 'spend time with the twins' which is where Miranda had directed her statement. That was all the information Miranda needed. After all, this was what she had been waiting for; a sign that Andrea was willing to be approached. Now she knew.

Andrea shifted in her chair to face Miranda. "You know, I don't see you running out on dates either so take the same advice. Don't feel like you have to spend all your time with me."

Ah, and here's another sign. Not to mention the truth. Miranda had just been caught in her own game. "Touché, touché. Andrea, if I didn't want to spend time with you then I wouldn't be. I never do anything that I don't want to do. I think you realize that."

"I do."

Andrea turned back to face the water and Miranda was content to have them sit in silence for a while. She could tell that Andrea's mind was working around a question she wanted to ask Miranda. It was written all over her face. She wanted to know just what it was they were doing, had been doing all this time.

Miranda knew what she was doing. She hadn't realized it till now but this entire time Miranda had been slowly working her way into Andrea's life. Slowly working her way into Andrea's heart. Judging from their current topic of conversation, it was working…and it was time to change the subject. Miranda wasn't willing to let Andrea work herself into thinking about motives or their reality just yet. "I'm getting another cup of coffee then we should talk about this idiotic vampire idea of yours. Where are the binders?"

Andrea answered by pointing to Miranda's iPad that lay abandoned on the small table by her chair. "Oh, no. Absolutely not."

"Oh yes way." Andrea said, reaching for her own iPad that was on a small table beside her. "I stayed up all night scanning everything in. You'll find it in the same program you use to look at _The Book_. There's also a PDF file of the sections of the book I think you should use for the shoot."

Miranda sighed and picked up her iPad. "You're trying to kill me with technology aren't you?"

"No. You'll thank me later when you realize you don't have to carry around a bunch of _crap_ anymore. Just keep an open mind alright?"

"Fine, you win. My mind is officially open but I swear if this turns out badly, you're getting fed to the first vampire I can find."

Andrea waved her off, "Promises, promises."

* * *

The rest of the morning and the afternoon passed quickly. Before it was over with Andrea had Miranda thoroughly convinced that her idea would indeed work. In fact her idea was so good it almost scared Miranda. What else could the girl come up with that might very well be a stroke of genius? It was clear to Miranda that she was going to have to _force_ Andrea to move on. She could not stay by Miranda's side forever. She was wasting her potential by doing so.

"I'm tired of looking at all this. I'm going to change if you're willing to take a break."

"Yes, that's fine, Andrea. I'm in need of a break myself. Your Hershey Bars are in the refrigerator by the way."

Andrea picked up all their paper work and the two iPads and headed into the house. "I know. I already ate half of one while you were preoccupied."

Miranda rolled her eyes. She'd never seen anyone so addicted to such a cheap excuse for chocolate. Oh well, to each their own. Miranda stretched and went inside to change; after all, civilized people do not wear lounge pants in the middle of the day. Although what she would choose to put on afterwards wasn't far from the same outfit she had just discarded.

Andrea, on the other hand came out of 'her' room, as it was now called by the girls, wearing a red bikini and a sarong wrapped around her waist. To say that it looked good on her would had been one of the most horrible statements about clothing Miranda had ever made in her life. Unable to move or think or blink, Miranda just stood in the hallway and watched as Andrea passed back through the kitchen and out the door with a bottle of water. Water? Miranda's throat was suddenly incredibly dry.

Miranda made her way to the refrigerator and went for the first bottle of Pellegrino she saw. It did her little good though. Not since she was standing at the kitchen window watching Andrea walk down to the beach. Miranda put her glass in the sink and rolled her eyes at her own reluctance. There was only one thing she wanted to do, so she might as well do it. Perhaps another round of talks would bring her even closer to her goal.

Miranda made short work of catching up to Andrea since she was walking slowly. She seemed completely lost in thought and appeared to not sense that Miranda was walking next to her.

"Andrea…"

Andrea stopped walking abruptly and a look of surprise spread across her face. "Hey. Did you need something?"

Miranda started walking again and motioned for Andrea to follow. Did she need something? Why yes she needed a great many things. "No, I just felt like joining you, if that is alright?"

"Yeah, that's fine. It's a nice day."

"Yes it is."

"I like it here. It's different…you're different…here."

Miranda noted that Andrea kept her face forward, which was good because Miranda's face was betraying her. Andrea would have no doubt seen straight through Miranda and right into her thoughts. Miranda tried to keep her voice even as she questioned Andrea. "In what way?"

"It's hard to explain really."

"Well do your best. You know I don't like my questions to go unanswered." Miranda turned to look at Andrea as she said this and caught her rolling her eyes.

"You just are. You're more relaxed. You're almost calm…which is a little scary." Andrea's hair was blowing in the wind causing Miranda to almost not comprehend what was being said.

"Andrea, I would think by now you realize that there are times when I'm not completely focused on work."

"I know that. It's just...all I'm saying is that it's stronger here. Know what I mean?"

"Yes, I think I do. Let's sit." Miranda pointed to a rock near-by. Andrea complied and they sat in silence. Miranda was growing more frustrated with herself as each second passed by. She looked down between them and Andrea's hand was resting there. It would be so easy to just reach out and take it. This strong urge reminded her of the first time she truly had to fight herself to not touch Andrea. It was after that dreadful photo shoot, the one that ended in her calling Andrea.

When Miranda returned to her office the next day, Andrea was aware of the time and was standing there waiting as the elevator doors opened. Both of them just stood there for a moment and stared at one another. Miranda tried to think of a dozen things to say or do besides reach out. In fact she stood there so long that the elevator doors started to close again. Andrea stopped the doors with her hand and asked Miranda if she wanted coffee. Miranda could only nod and they traded places. Again Miranda stared at her and before the doors closed again Andrea said "I'm glad you're back." Miranda couldn't find a way to stop herself from replying "I'm glad I am too." She was completely useless for the rest of the day and most of that night when Andrea came over with dinner and a bottle of wine. Sitting side-by-side on the couch, Miranda showed Andrea every single picture taken at the vineyard on her laptop. Every. Single. One. And it had taken them well past mid-night.

"Miranda…"

Miranda shook her head. Andrea was catching her daydreaming far too often. "Yes?"

"I was just saying that it's not just that. It's not just here that you're different. It's with me…you're different with me too."

Miranda looked down at the sand where her toes were drawing designs and couldn't help but laugh a little. The tables were turning and Andrea was in control of this conversation now. She might as well just sit back and see where it led. "That is certainly a correct observation. I cannot seem to help myself…In fact; I've been different for a while now. We both have."

Andrea slid her arm through Miranda's and pulled her upright. "Come on. I want to go back." And just like that, much to Miranda's disappointment, apparently this conversation was over.

The whole way back to the house Miranda kept waiting for Andrea to remove her arm but she didn't. Perhaps she was waiting for Miranda to do the same thing. But Miranda didn't. Perhaps this was just how it was supposed to be.

After getting back from their walk the rest of the day was spent finishing the details of the upcoming 'vampire fiasco' as Miranda started calling it. More preliminary work would need to be done of course but at least the basics were settled and there was now a plan to build from.

Cooking dinner was an eventful affair for Miranda. Preparing a simple salad, tortellini with a comparable sauce and some bread should not be this difficult. But with Andrea sitting right there on the kitchen counter, watching your every move while explaining to her what a 'sucky' job someone had done at editing an article in the Times; it was a challenge. Oh, and let's not forget that she still had on that bikini with the matching sarong. Miranda was surprised she had not cut her own finger off while cutting up a tomato.

"You wanna eat outside?" Andrea slid off the counter.

"Yes, that sounds lovely." Drowning herself in another bottle of Pellegrino sounded lovely too.

Somewhere in between setting the table and carrying out the food, Andrea decided that music was needed. There were speakers outside so she just plugged her iPod in and since Miranda couldn't come up with any particular requests, God only knew what she was about to be listening to. Honestly, Miranda couldn't care less. She probably wouldn't hear any of it anyway.

Mid-way through dinner the conversation would turn yet again turn to work and while on that topic Miranda decided to yet _again_ suggest that Andrea move on from _Runway_.

Andrea's whole countenance changed. Miranda could literally see the panic on her face and feel her tense up even from across the table. This reaction baffled Miranda. Why was Andrea so unwilling? Did she fear that in doing so, she would never see Miranda again? Now that Miranda thought about it, that was a very distinct possibility.

"Andrea, I can assure you that if you move on…that will not be the last you see of me. If of course that is what you are afraid of."

Andrea seemed to relax again but the panic on her face was only replaced by a new expression. It was still panicked, yet different; as if there was something else Miranda was not seeing.

Andrea pushed her plate back a little harder than necessary and continued to stare at Miranda, who was determined to wait for reply but it was getting hard. For the second time that day all she wanted to do was reach out. She was cursing herself for being unable to move because deep down she knew she would not be rejected. Andrea would not be here with her now, would not have spent so much time with her, if she was of the frame of mind to reject Miranda. The whole time, all these months, they had been moving closer to an end and Andrea had not moved away from her one single inch.

Andrea's reply still hadn't come but suddenly for the first time since sitting down to eat; Miranda actually heard the music playing from the nearby speakers. She knew this song well. The desire and need to have this whole mess over with once and for all took over inside Miranda and she got up from the table. Coming around to the other side, she held out her hand. "Dance with me." It wasn't a question.

Andrea looked at her like she was crazy. "What?"

"Dance with me."

"Miranda, I am not dancing with my boss." She was still looking at Miranda like she had two if not three heads.

"No Andrea. You are not dancing with your _boss_. You're dancing with _me_." Miranda was tired of waiting so she just took Andrea's hand and hauled her out of her seat. Leading her back around the table to an empty space in front, Miranda put an arm around her, keeping one hand in her own.

It was all a little silly, dancing like this; but Miranda was confident that this would serve her purpose. As the first verse played Miranda leaned in closer and whispered "Andrea…even if I let you run off to go work somewhere else…you would still be with me. You cannot leave me. Not completely. I wouldn't allow it."

Andrea put an arm around Miranda's neck and Miranda could feel her finally relax. "Miranda I…"

Miranda didn't let her finish. "Andrea, I've been trying to make sure that you wouldn't forget me. That you wouldn't be _able_ to forget me or leave me, or even want to." Miranda leaned in further and kissed her neck, inhaling the scent of her skin. She smelled like the sun.

When Miranda kissed her neck again Andrea wrapped both her arms around Miranda's neck. Yes, this was working and this had been worth all the waiting. Miranda continued to place kisses along her neck and jaw while wrapping both arms around Andrea, caressing her back and sides. Miranda could feel Andrea press herself closer to her. It felt so good to finally be able to touch her. To hold her.

"Miranda…I don't want to. I can't leave you…and I certainly can't forget you."

"Why's that darling?" Miranda kissed her mouth before she could answer. It was a very slow yet thorough kiss. Frankly, Miranda was rather proud of herself because all she had been imagining was something quite different.

Andrea opened up to her and the kiss continued on as if they were slowly making up for lost time. Maybe they were. Miranda finally pulled away simply from the sheer need for oxygen. While she took a breath Andrea answered her question. "I can't forget you because you're all I think about. I can't help it. And when you're gone…when you're gone it drives me crazy."

Miranda kissed her again and her hands moved to Andrea's waist, slowly untying the knot in her sarong. Andrea made no move to object but then Miranda's senses returned and the words she had just heard sank in. Miranda took her face in both hands. "The time at the vineyard…that's why you were upset wasn't? That's what was really wrong? You missed me?"

"Yes. That is what was wrong." Andrea tried to blink back the tears in her eyes but Miranda caught them and brushed them away. "I just needed you to come back and then you called me and it was like…I don't know. Everything was alright again…and you've been calling ever since."

"Everything is alright and everything will be alright. Just stay with me."

By now the song was long over but they were still moving together slowly, not inclined to separate just yet. The sarong was finally untied and lying in a heap on the ground.

Andrea's hands were in her shirt moving up her sides, sending waves of heat through Miranda's body and she knew there was absolutely no way the two of them were remaining dressed for long.

"Andrea…come inside with me." Again, not a question.

Andrea simply followed her and Miranda began the long, slow process of bridging the gap between their fantasies and their reality; finding the perfect end to their story.

THE END


	6. Song 6 - The First Taste

Title: The First Taste - Song 6

CD: Tidal by Fiona Apple

Beta: Peetsden

Fandom: Devil Wears Prada

Pairing: Miranda/Andy

Rating: PG13

Disclaimer: I don't own Devil Wears Prada or Fiona Apple.

**_Note: _**Well ladies, this song…yes THIS SONG is the one that delayed me literally by four months if not five. During that time, I bitched, whined, cried and complained to Peetsden until she probably wanted to drown me in the kitchen sink. She, however, did not drown me. (thank you peet) But – what she did do was give me a verbal '_go ahead, it's okay_' sort of shove that pushed me in this direction.

By now you want to know what the problem was, right? It's this: The translation between what I _see_ in the song and what I have _written_ here…doesn't really mesh. I KNOW what needs to be written here…but for five months I could not get that on paper. So…after much whining…I thought what the hell: take the title…take some words…do the best you can and call it a day. I relayed this to Peet and well...you know sometimes you just need to hear someone say '_yes, that's totally fine_'…she told me that so I got off my ass and wrote this.

Now with that said –I stepped off into something with this story that I have not done before and holy shit it will be a long time before I try to do something from this POV again…because damnit…it was hard. I hope it reads well for you all and I hope you feel everything and see this the way I do because after it was all said, done and written…my heart feels pretty connected to this story. Maybe that's just because of _how_ it's written…I don't know. But in any case – read and enjoy. This is the longest of them all.

By the way this is written from Andy's POV.

_**The First Taste**_

Tonight I climb into bed incredibly early. The sun has barely had time to set but this has almost become a habit for me now so it really doesn't matter. There's really nothing better to do—this is a total lie—and since I work the early shift at the paper it's certainly easy enough to accomplish. The funny thing is…I very seldom fall asleep on these nights. Laying here staring at the ceiling is more my style and tonight is no exception. After all, tomorrow is a big day for me so there's naturally a lot to think about, worry about. A lot to keep me awake.

Yet, _thinking_ and _worrying_ is sort of useless because there is so little about tomorrow that is within my power to control at this point. Everything has been set in motion…my plans have been made and tomorrow will either end well or not at all. Nothing else can be done.

My greatest hope is that some sort of relief will be found in my actions…in this very crazy and very stupid idea of mine. But either way, relief or not, something has to happen…no matter the outcome, something _has_ to _happen_. I can't keep going like this. So…as Miranda is so fond of saying, 'I live on hope', and that is certainly true these days.

I'm tired of looking at the ceiling. There is a crack in it that I have memorized a million times over and the fan is _still_ dusty and cobwebs are definitely _still_ present. I'm really too busy to dust in spite of all this time I have to lay here in the bed. Shutting my eyes isn't an option though because I'm hardly ready for that so I roll over and pull a picture out of my nightstand.

It's of me and Miranda. Our backs are turned to the camera but our profiles are clearly visible. We're looking at some random painting; I can't remember whose work it is anymore. Art really isn't my thing, even though Miranda always explains the artist's intentions…most of the time it all looks the same to me. Especially that impressionist stuff.

But anyway…our backs are turned and Miranda is attempting to explain the meaning of what just looks like a bunch of swirls of paint to me. She's pointing at something and I'm following along, listening to every word. Neither of us is smiling. Lily was quick to point that out when she gave me this photo. I remember just blowing her off as I tried to figure out what possessed her to take the picture in the first place. I still haven't figured that out but I'm thankful that she did and I'm doubly thankful that Miranda didn't catch her.

Even though Lily knows just about everything there is to know, I've still failed to explain the unexplainable…the reasons for the feelings I have. It all seems so complex sometimes; but at least she understands and doesn't jump up and down for answers that I don't have. Frankly, I just consider it a miracle that she's willing to put up with me at all nowadays. Especially after Nate, especially after I disappeared for a few months, especially after I went off the deep end then came back around like nothing ever happened. But thankfully she acted like nothing ever happened too and things have been pretty okay since then.

Miranda looks really pretty in this picture. I look okay, I guess, but she really looks nice…then again when does Miranda _not_ look nice? Or beautiful? Or…See? Anytime I try to go beyond _that_, the words get stuck.

So…she looks really pretty, I'll stick with that and her dress is a deep purple color. She would verbally kick my ass for not knowing the shade but honestly there are thousands of shades in Miranda's color wheel and I seriously don't feel like memorizing them all. No matter how important she thinks it is.

This dress or at least the color kind of reminds me of what Miranda was wearing the first time I saw her again after I left. Not the time in the street. The other time. I really don't consider that heart stopping moment in the street to be the first time at all. The really, _real_ first time…I was in _Barnes & Noble_ of all places—I really don't like chain bookstores—looking for a book to mail my niece for her birthday. There the three of them were, Caroline, Cassidy and Miranda all sitting there on a bench in the kids section, heads down, totally oblivious to the rest of the world.

I can't deny that I seriously thought about walking away. They would have never known I was there…but I couldn't. My feet wouldn't have gone in the opposite direction even if someone else was controlling them. But at the same time I felt sick…panicky. Considering that I'd just about gotten over these panic attacks, I was sort of unprepared. In the end I guess part of me figured that this might be a chance for me to get it out of my system. All I really wanted, at that time, was to see her just once thinking that maybe I could just get over whatever in the hell was paralyzing me. That kind of didn't happen.

So there they were. Miranda was explaining rather patiently to Cassidy that for once there _were_ limits to what she could make possible and that going 2.5 miles down to the bottom of the ocean floor for an up-close and personal view of the Titanic was definitely a limit. Picture books would just have to do. This news, of course, wasn't received very well since Cassidy's used to getting anything she wants.

Caroline finally spoke as Miranda kept turning the pages in a gigantic book of photographs. Apparently she was perfectly happy with Miranda's limits because being in that much water sounded like a 'pretty dumb idea' to her. I agree, seeing as how I don't really like being around more water than I can drink or take a bath in. Cassidy was less than impressed with her sister's critique of her idea and let her know it too.

After a little more debating went on over this devastating development in the world, I got brave and stupid and went over…and simply said hello.

No one moved. All three of them, especially Miranda, looked genuinely surprised. I'm sad to say that I don't remember much of our conversation. All I know for certain is that it lasted forty-five minutes and ended in coffee from the Starbucks inside the store. Miranda had on a purple blouse that really made her hair stand out. And she hardly had any product in it so it sort of just had a natural flow. It was hard not to touch it and that's when I figured out that even if everything ended right there in _Barnes & Noble_ with her telling me to get lost…I'd still be messed up even though I'd know it was all finished.

But…Miranda didn't tell me to get lost and the twins were half-way nice to me…I remember that too. And she asked me about my job. I didn't mention the reference she sent because I knew that would just piss her off. Miranda isn't big on being thanked for anything. She finds that sort of trivial. I did, however, tell her that I was enjoying it and felt like I was making decent headway. She just nodded.

Plans were not made to meet again. I wanted to but the words got stuck in my mouth. She did mention the benefit Ralph Lauren was hosting for the Breast Cancer Society though…it was the very next week and I was supposed to be there too. Even though I don't work for _Runway_ anymore, I still receive invitations to events sometimes. Making a good impression really can last. I didn't tell her that I would be there but it made me feel good to know that I would see her again if I chose to go. And for once, I would choose to go…

Before I left with my book and coffee I made sure to tell Cassidy to check the movie store down the street for documentaries on the Titanic. I could tell by the look on her face that this wasn't really what she wanted to hear but with a very dramatic sigh she said it might be alright after all.

Miranda appeared to be pretty grateful for this idea since she is and will always be willing to do anything to keep her kids happy. I left them in the store after that and went home surprised that I didn't cry on the way. This made me kind of proud since I've spent so much time doing that over the past couple of months anyway…in spite of how hard I try not to.

We saw each other the next week. I really didn't anticipate her coming up to me but she did at a moment when I wasn't paying attention. There were about ten paintings up for auction and I was mindlessly surveying the work, trying to understand things that are far beyond my purview. She came over, scaring me half to death because I was _also_ in the middle of trying hard to block out her presence even though I wanted to be so close.

Without prompting she explained what I was looking at. Again—I don't remember what it was now and I definitely don't remember much of what we talked about. I guess you could say that's a bit of a problem for me. I've built up so many memories on things that haven't happened yet—might never happen—t hat it's sometimes hard for me to separate what's really been said between us and what hasn't.

But anyway, I _do_ remember getting another really crazy and stupid idea. Before the words got a chance to get stuck in my throat again I mentioned a new collection of work Lily was about to show at her gallery. It was in three days.

So…in three days, without me actually inviting her, Miranda came through the door of the gallery fifteen minutes into the opening. She took my breath away, as usual, and at first I didn't know what to say. I don't think she did either. Thirty minutes later I realized that she had been in that lowly gallery _twenty_ minutes beyond her usual 'get me the hell out of here' time frame. The minutes continued to tick away and Miranda stayed there with me for well over an hour.

I ended up having to introduce her to Lily, who just about fainted; but by then I was ready to faint too so it didn't matter. I didn't faint though and neither did Lily. To top it off she found it within herself to actually speak and ask Miranda if she was having a decent enough time. You never ask Miranda anything but poor Lily didn't know. I didn't expect Miranda to answer since I know she is never enthusiastic when it comes to dealing with the 'general populace' much less answering questions. But…Miranda _did_ answer and even though it wasn't entirely positive, she was polite in her own way, saying "Oh yes, the work is somewhat disappointing but, as you can see, there are no press within a mile of this little place. That, in and of itself, more than makes up for the obvious lack in talent." Lily was probably offended but I was plenty thrilled with her answer.

After that it just so happens that every week, for months…even through the hectic holiday season, we find ourselves at Lily's little gallery, on the same night and the same time.

At some point during these gallery visits I have started to realize something. Always, every single time, during some random moment a feeling of heaviness overtakes us. At first I thought it was just me but it isn't. She feels it too. I can just tell, and even though months have passed, we still experience it every single time we meet.

Maybe it's my fault. Maybe I depress her. That certainly wouldn't be unreasonable to think of as an answer since I've been depressing myself for quite a while now. But I don't know. Sometimes I just look over and she seems so sad. I bet most people think Miranda is a sad person anyway but I've never thought this…until now. People only think that way about her because they don't know how to separate Miranda from Miranda _Priestly_. One is a real person. The other is just a character. I will always see Miranda as one of the greatest character actresses that _never_ made it onto film…not counting photos on _Page Six_ of course.

But anyway, it just seems like before the night is over we always end up with a heavy blanket over us. I don't like it. It makes it hard to breathe and hard to focus and more than a few times I've considered saying something about it. But I never do. In fact I really never bring up anything at all. I just let her dictate the small talk…because that's all it ever is. I imagine she's surprised that I can keep my mouth shut. I know I am but somewhere between throwing away my phone and ending up here I've sort of stopped rambling…talking. I think I've finally figured out that if I just listen, I'll eventually know everything I need to know…or at least what I am meant to know. I hope that's true. I hope I'm not missing something.

I've had about all I can take of this picture so I put it back in my nightstand and grab my notepad that is there on top. Looking over my notes for tomorrow makes me a little nervous. I hope this goes right. I hope I can open my mouth and that the words don't get stuck. Tomorrow is very important…it will push me farther than I've ever been pushed. Deep down I know it's the right thing to do and just so long as I keep telling myself that it's worth it, I might be alright. I can only hope.

The entire thing is happening purely by accident. Well, by accident and probably by an intervention from God himself. Last week I was helping Jim, he's a co-worker, edit an article. Jim happens to be over what I like to call the 'business obituary's' section of the paper and he claims pretty loudly that it's the most boring thing he's ever done in his life.

His newest 'obituary', the one I read for him, is about two brothers that have purchased a certain building on Madison Avenue. I guess they think they can do a better job, in this failing economy, of leasing it out than the previous folks who hung on for a long a painful death. And honestly, they just might since they're literally tearing the inside of it to pieces and redesigning the entire place. Big name retail shops and important people have already spoken for half of the spaces that don't even exist yet. The important thing here is that about five floors of this building are the old _Runway_ headquarters. By the time I got done reading his article once all the way through, I felt like someone had smacked me in the head with a hammer.

It was then that this crazy and stupid plan formed in my mind. I made some calls later that day and found out that the third floor of _Runway's_ old section of this building went basically unchanged since their move. Some lawyer's, wanting for a cooler address, snapped up that floor and according to my contacts had kept it as it was since they really didn't have the money to do much else.

This particular floor is also where Miranda's old office is located.

Before I got off work I combed through old pictures on the internet and found a few of her office back then. I printed them and on my way home I went on a little field trip. Being a reporter has taught me a whole lot about how to make fast friends so in no time the construction crew, that is only just now working on the lower levels, let me go up to the right floor. Not only are the four walls that make up her office the same, minus the decorations…the damn desk is still there too.

I have to let Miranda see this space again. I have to give her the chance to revisit the place where it all began for her. I just have to. Even though she might say no, it will mean a lot either way and it will be a chance for me to finally open my mouth. And even if I _can't_ get the words out after all, it will show her that I care…an awful lot. More than she will probably ever know.

Unknowingly, Miranda would be the one to help me figure out how to pull this whole crazy and stupid thing off. Last week when we met at Lily's gallery some lady was talking to _everybody_ she came within five feet of. When she finally made it to us Miranda literally cringed but stayed where she was. This lady went on and on about the 'upcoming' cherry blossom festival at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden.

Since I hardly take my eyes off Miranda on these nights, I saw her interest was piqued. This lady continued her dissertation and Miranda, amazingly enough, just kept listening and then it happened. She said she'd never been but was 'quite fond of such things'. I never pegged Miranda as a nature lover but right then I knew what I had to do. As soon as this little old lady walked off to find her next victim, I found my voice and asked Miranda if she wanted to go.

She hesitated, just like I expected, but instead of pushing I told her to just think about it, yet I was careful to mention that there probably wouldn't be any press around since it sounded like this festival had been coming and going since dinosaurs walked the Earth. I threw this in because somewhere in our weekly meetings, I've been able to pick up on the fact that, for some reason, being out of the public-eye right now is more important to Miranda than ever before. Anyway, she just nodded and we made yet another circle around the room, looking at the same boring paintings we'd already seen twice over.

Right before we parted ways she agreed to go, keeping her head down the entire time we discussed where to meet. Finally she looked up at me and said it would probably be best if I came over and then we went together. This is exactly what I had been hoping for.

So this is where I find myself now, waiting for the night to pass. I plan on telling her I need to make a quick stop first, like to get some information on something or whatever for an article. I figure we'll park a block away, maybe two, and I'll just hope and pray that it works and she agrees to walk with me. Somehow, and I really don't know why, but I think she'll agree.

After this I don't have much of a plan. I know myself well enough to realize that my fears and nervousness will derail any plans I make for farther than the front door of the building. All I know is…I _have_ to give this to Miranda. Whether anything comes of it or not…well, I guess that is seriously up to God or whoever else might be watching. Hopefully someone _is_ actually watching because I need _all_ the help I can get.

* * *

Its Saturday now…eight-thirty in the morning. I've been awake since five, unable to sleep any more. I guess that's what I get for going to bed so damn early on a Friday night. At least time has gone by pretty fast. I went for a run, took a shower…and changed clothes three times and now I only have an hour left. We agreed to meet at ten but I know Miranda will expect me there much earlier and besides I have the subway to contend with.

I've decided to go easy on myself today. Usually on our gallery nights I go all out with a dress, heels, and all the other things I used to need to get Miranda's approval when I worked for her. Today doesn't seem like a day for that so I go with jeans, a light blue-button down shirt, and just a little make-up. The color reminds me of Miranda's eyes when she's happy. Like that day in Barnes & Noble…she seemed pretty happy that day.

On my way out the door I grab a light jacket because April can be so unpredictable and my coffee. Midway down the stairs of my building I have to turn around and go back. If I'm going to pull this off I'll at least need my notepad or something so I go in and grab it then I'm finally able to really leave.

As the subway doors open then close behind me I take one last deep breath and say one last prayer because after this subway car starts its journey, I'll be at the mercy of fate. On the way I wonder what Miranda is doing. Probably working, looking at _The Book_ and writing nasty notes to people so they know just how incompetent they _still_ are. Or maybe she's waiting for me. I kind of doubt that because it's hard for me to visualize Miranda just standing around waiting for anything. No matter what the reason.

I'm walking up 73rd street now and my heart is pounding…racing. I almost start to cry. What if this goes wrong? What if she changes her mind all together and won't go anywhere at all? How did I even get so wrapped up in this woman in the first place? But seriously, I've asked myself that question a million times and don't have an answer. I just love her. I can't help it.

About three doors down from Miranda's a funny thing hits me. I'm probably, at this very moment, the poster child for the entire bi-polar community…or maybe not, since these feelings, these highs and lows today are coming and going so fast I can hardly keep up. Hopefully when I see Miranda and we start going down the road I will feel a little calmer. I can only hope.

As funny as this bi-polar idea is, it's even funnier that even though there's the heaviness between us; there is, at least for me, a sense of calm too. That might be a very simple and very watered down version of what the feeling actually is, but it's the best I can do. For so long all I've felt is…on edge, I guess. But now for a few hours once a week I get to feel calm and like I'm not alone. Because really…in a room full of people you can still feel alone and I never feel that way with Miranda.

When I get to her front door my hand reaches out and I knock. I had meant to stand here for a second and get myself together but now there is no chance for that because Miranda opens the door right away. Maybe she was waiting after all.

"Hello." She says and comes right outside. I'm kind of glad because I really wasn't looking forward to going into the townhouse. Something tells me that if I sit down in there, I'll probably end up losing my nerve and cancel the whole thing all by myself. That would be pretty horrible so I return her greeting with a little smile.

Her wardrobe surprises me. I've never seen her in something so casual. The Prada heels are there but the rest is jeans, a loose fitting white top and she's got that Donna Karen trench that I've always liked her in—except this one is black. And there's a hat. It's black too…a very fancy and no doubt expensive baseball cap with a little Prada logo on the side. She's clearly trying for the invisible thing today.

I think she knows I'm blown away by it but she just smirks and keeps walking to her car. All thoughts of telling her that she looks nice are thrown out when she hands me the keys.

"You remember how to drive it, don't you?" She's not even looking at me and is already half way to sitting in the passenger seat. Luckily I _do_ remember how to drive it and thank God I had gotten a lot better at it in my nine months at _Runway_.

Miranda's got her seat belt on now and she's staring at me through the window since I have yet to actually get into the freaking car. Why I'm waiting I seriously don't know so I get in. Unlike Miranda Priestly, _Miranda_ doesn't give me some speech about 'glacial pace' and 'you know how much waiting thrills me'. She just puts her sunglasses on and I just drive.

Like everything else she's wearing, these aren't her trademark sunglasses and they definitely have a darker tint to them. Surprisingly enough, even though her entire wardrobe is so outside her own 'normal', it still looks good on her and she seems relaxed.

As usual I wait for her to talk. She brings up the research she's done on the cherry blossom festival and tells me that there are over 200 trees, 42 'species and cultivated varieties'…whatever that means, and that the first trees were planted after World War I…and on and _on_. I try to keep up but whether at work or not, whenever Miranda starts to list things off out loud it always ends up being at a rapid fire pace.

After she's satisfied that I'm now just as self-educated as she is on the subject, Miranda says the girls are 'most unhappy' to be at their fathers this weekend. Apparently the prospect of seeing a bunch of trees is much more exciting than being with him. I can totally relate to that since I haven't seen or spoken to mine in months. I wonder if I'll ever get a chance to tell Miranda about my father.

We're stopped at a red-light now and I sneak a glance at her, realizing something. It's only us in this car. Never once have we been alone together in all these months. Does she realize this too? If she does she's not acting any different than she usually does so I guess it's no big deal. Well really if it _was_ a big deal then she wouldn't be here at all.

Like always, she's looking out the window. I wonder what she sees. Sometimes I don't think she sees anything but the shapes and shadows passing by. Maybe looking out the window all the time is just her escape from reality. Maybe it doesn't really matter to her what's outside…just so long as it's not her own life staring back at her. I can relate to that too.

It isn't until the fifth red-light that I finally tell her about this stop I need to make.

"Hey, I…uh." My fingers start doing that idiotic drumming thing on the steering wheel and I force myself to stop. "I kind of need to make a quick stop. It's on our way…I should have mentioned it before."

I can see her eyebrow rise even though I'm not looking at her. "A quick _stop_?"

"Yeah…I need to set up an interview and the guy I have to contact hasn't been answering his phone. It'll just take a second." That's a pretty lame excuse and my chest starts to hurt. She won't fall for this.

But she does…or at least just this much of it. "I suppose we have time." Her mouth is set in a thin line and I can tell that even though she's fallen for it, she's ticked off that I didn't plan this out better. Or so she thinks.

In an effort to keep from cracking and backing out, I just say, "Thanks" and keep driving. The traffic thins out a little and before I realize it we're right here on Madison Avenue.

I pass the building up in favor of going on two more blocks. There's a Starbucks. Miranda can't say no to Starbucks so I'm hoping this will get her out of the car. The mere smell of it will probably work. It does and I'm seriously starting to not believe my luck.

She chooses something different, something I've never seen her drink. It's some weird Brazilian blend that doesn't really smell all that good to me but she forces me to try a sample. I do. It's okay, too strong, but okay. Miranda can tell that I don't like it and rolls her eyes saying something about my underdeveloped palate. I ignore her and order a big fat Mocha Coconut Frappuccino. She says nothing and beats me to paying for our drinks. It's then that I dumbly realize she's not carrying a bag…come to think of it; there isn't one in the car either. All Miranda has with her is this wallet that she has just pulled out of her coat.

She of course notices me eyeing it, it matches her baseball cap; little Prada logo, black in color. It's a guy's wallet. "I can travel very light when I want to." She says and while we wait Miranda opens the wallet further and shows me that Miriam Lofton is really the one that travels lightly. Her license photo is far from kind. Intentional of course.

It's kind of silly but the first thing that comes out of my mouth is "That's pretty cool." And since I can't believe she actually went to the DMV looking like that, I say "You actually went to the DMV?"

She almost grins and whispers, "I think so too. I haven't had it long…it was just a…unexpected idea. And _no_, I did not _go_ to the _DMV_." She rolls her eyes at me then finishes. "I had a little help."

"Oh, well I can't believe you haven't tried something like that until now." I say and seriously I can't believe it at all. How has she survived this long with no way to escape besides looking out the window?

"I know." She says but our drinks are ready and this stops her train of thought for a minute. Once we walk out the door she continues. "A few weeks ago the girls were gone…and I drove to Maine."

This makes me actually stop in the middle of the sidewalk. "You stayed?" I ask and can't help but notice that she seems to be awfully proud of herself for this accomplishment. An accomplishment that most people would only see as a regular, everyday thing.

"For one night. I was nervous I admit…it felt a little like I was stealing someone's identity since I've got more than just a new driver's license. Don't you have somewhere to be?"

"Oh, right." I shake my head and lead the way since it seems like she's voluntarily decided to come with me. At this I can't be happier.

I like the idea of Miranda getting away on her own. It will probably do her wonders and it'll definitely be a better relaxation tool than any massage. It would be fun to see that part of her; just out in the open, alone and just…out there…getting a dose of the real world. Like right now…

"How far do we have to go?" Miranda says behind her drink. She's watching the people as we walk by but I can tell she's not uncomfortable…yet. And I can also tell that she has absolutely _no_ idea what's coming next.

Then I realize that _I_ have absolutely no idea what comes next either. But I can't back out now so I say, "Not far.", and she just follows me.

While I concentrate on picking my way though the crowded sidewalk I think about how things have gone pretty well today, with the exception of her getting pissed over this 'unplanned' stop. Come to think of it, I feel better right now than I have in a long time. Part of it's probably got to do with the fact that I've now seen Miranda twice this week. That's plenty to make me feel good but there's more. We're outside. In the daytime. And we're okay. No one is breathing down her neck with a camera, there are no meetings, run-throughs, interviews, or articles to write for either of us and to top it off, our phones aren't ringing. It's just a free day and we're here together. This makes everything I'm about to do totally worth it, even if this is actually a mistake…to have this much of it has been worth every second.

We're one building away now and I don't think I can wait any longer. If I wait until we're right there at the door…I don't know. I can't wait any longer and the sidewalk has sort of cleared out a little…

"Miranda?" I slow down some, which is almost at a snail's pace now because believe or not, away from work, Miranda is a _slow_-ass walker. Or maybe I'm just so conditioned to 'fast,fast,fast' that her new '_slow_-ass walker' pace is just more noticeable?

"Yes?"

She slows down too and our arms brush. I can't look at her yet so I just open my mouth since I'm determined to accomplish this. "I lied to you." That's it. That's all I can come up with but at least it's the direct, Gods honest truth. No bullshitting.

I see Miranda reach out and she grabs my elbow right as my confession ends. "What?" she says and I stop walking and face her for once. She looks confused, like maybe she didn't hear me right. But she did. Miranda is anything but hard of hearing.

"I lied to you." I repeat and force myself to finish this. This part is the hardest…getting her into the building. After that everything will be…well not _easier_ but maybe a little. "I don't have an interview to schedule, Miranda." Miranda lets go of my elbow and takes off her sunglasses. I swallow hard and feel a knot form in my stomach. Her eyes aren't light-blue…

"Explain. Quickly." Is all she says and it must be killing her to not go off on me like I'm pretty sure she wants too. Why she isn't is a huge mystery because the only people Miranda is patient with are her kids.

"Miranda…" I blink a few times and look up and down the sidewalk. No one's paying attention so I reach out just like she did a second ago and grab her elbow gently. Sometimes I forget how small she looks but how strong she is all at the same time. Miranda reminds me of it now as she pulls away from me. I just pull at her again, gently and plead with her. "Please, Miranda."

Suddenly, her eyes change and I feel the tension in her arm release as she takes a hesitant step forward into my space. The best way to keep myself from getting too scared when there are only meager words and the potential for exasperation is soaring, has always been to keep direct eye contact with Miranda; so I make an attempt to bravely stare her down.

When I know she's not walking away, I begin. "I know this is where you started. The inside is being ripped apart." Her eyes get a little big but I ignore it and keep going. "Your floor is pretty much the same…I thought you'd… Well." I pause for a second and tighten my grip on her elbow just a tiny bit. "I thought you'd like to see it one more time. I thought it might…I thought…" Now I'm stuck. The words are struck. I can't believe this…actually _yes_ I can because this is how I've envisioned it. Me. Screwing up.

"You did this on purpose? The festival?"

"I did it on purpose. I wanted to surprise you." Then I realize I'm not only holding Miranda's elbow but I'm rubbing the inside of her arm with my thumb. I'm not going to stop though because for all I know this might be the last time I get to touch her. "But, Miranda I _did_ want to take you to the festival." I think I better clear that up right here and now because for some reason it seems like she might be _more_ upset over this stupid festival being part of the 'lie' than anything else. I will never understand the oddity known as Miranda. Seriously never. "I just didn't know how else to get you here. If you don't want to go inside that's fine. But if you do…I mean we're going to the festival either way, okay?" And now I almost feel like I'm trying to pacify my niece with promises of junk food and toys.

We've stood here for God knows how long and I've been finished with my little speech for what seems just as long before she says something. Actually she doesn't say anything at all. She just nods and I just go forward with my hand still at her elbow.

Getting in the building is easy enough. When I was here the other day I made sure someone would be around to let us in and in fact there is a whole crew here. Luckily half way through the lobby I see the same foreman that I spoke with the other day. When we get closer to him Miranda puts her sunglasses back on and I let go of her elbow. I make pretty quick work of saying hello and pass him a few nice, crisp one-hundred dollar bills inside my handshake. That was the deal. Two-hundred dollars equals the tenth floor being clear of people for as long as I want it.

The elevators are still in fine, clean, working order and Miranda and I stand here shoulder-to-shoulder as the floors go by. I'm just proud that I didn't revert back to my training and wait to get in another one so she could be alone. At the fifth floor I feel her move and I look up.

In the reflection of the elevator door I can see her take her sun-glasses off again and put them in the pocket of her coat. She takes her hat off too and runs a hand through her hair. I kinda wish she hadn't done that. Not because she's got hat-hair or something…that almost makes me chuckle and I have to clear my throat. Miranda and hat-hair are just two concepts that don't go together. It's just that her hair is…I don't know…and I can see in the doors reflection that there's a strand I could reach out and tuck behind her ear so, so easily. I wish she would put her hat back on but since it's obvious that she's not; I hold my hand out and she gives it to me. I've got my huge Coach bag with me and an entire house will fit in here if I deemed it worthy. An entire house _isn't_ worthy of being in my bag; but Miranda's hat is certainly a workable deal.

At the tenth floor the doors open and I get out. She doesn't. I turn around and she's looking at the scuffed marble flooring at my feet. "Miranda?" I question her. Hopefully she's not about to back out now because I don't think I could take that. Not after getting this far.

She just nods and finally steps off the elevator and since I know the way, I just lead her through this old _Runway_ lobby. It's certainly nothing like the current one that's for damn sure. I mean in its prime it might have been something but compared to what I 'grew-up with' this is nothing. It's smaller, darker and just…not what I grew-up with. Not at all.

I hold open the main glass door that really gets you into the thick of things and she stops like she's stuck to the floor. I have never seen her like this before and I'm beginning to feel like I've seriously misjudged my lofty idea that she would actually want to come in here.

"Miranda, we don't have to." I say and right now I am fully prepared to turn around and get her to this cherry blossom festival as fast as possible. Complete with candy and toys if necessary.

Just when I'm ready to verbally offer that very thing, she shakes her head. "No," Miranda whispers, "This is fine. I suppose you've been here already?" She is sort of looking at the floor and looking at me at the same time.

I stifle down a breath of relief. It's too early for that but at least she sounds better than she did out on the sidewalk. "Yeah, I came when I found out about it. I had to check," I say as I wave my hand over the hallway; "to make sure it was worth coming back to."

"Oh. Well…" Miranda straights her shoulders and breaths in deep though her nose almost like she's physically preparing for what she's about to do. Maybe she is. "Lead the way."

It's probably out of just seeing her do the exact same but I straighten my shoulders and take a deep breath too before motioning for her to come on through the door. Finally she takes the step and I continue in front of her, flipping on lights as I go down the first hallway.

This floor is an even worse maze than the current building but thankfully Miranda's office isn't but two turns to the right. Half way there she mumbles something about how nothing has changed but the pictures on the walls and the name on the glass door. I turn my head a little as we continue on and make the long story about those lawyers, a very short one.

That's all the time it takes and then here we are. The set-up is almost the same, just smaller and darker like the lobby. The executive kitchen is down the hall instead of behind the second assistant's desk and the coat closet is in a different spot…but basically it's the same. I hadn't realized it until now but my heart is pounding worse than it has all day and I'm starting to think this big fat Mocha Coconut Frappuccino was a mistake.

"Here we are…" Miranda says and puts a hand on my shoulder. It makes me jump a little and I guess she felt it because she removes her hand quickly. She could have left it. I wouldn't have minded…

"Yeah. This is it." I say. "It' uh…not as grand as what you've got now…" Duh. Miranda knows that. That was so dumb. I hope this doesn't signal the return of the rambling because that would seriously suck right now. I mean, yeah, I need to keep talking here but it at least needs to be something of…what….substance?

Miranda turns a slow circle in the space between the two assistance desks and looks around saying "No…no, it's not.", then starts to take her coat off almost like it's a regular day at the office. She doesn't throw it down on the desk though, or worse, throw it at me. Miranda just holds it and walks up to the door of her old office.

I still don't feel good about this. I don't think she wants to do this… "Miranda, really…you don't have to…"

"Yes, I do." she says before putting a hand on the door and opening it. The lights are already on. I hang back a little and Miranda stands there in the middle of the room with her back toward me. I wonder what she sees right now. I wonder if she sees everything like it used to be; all the pictures, the books, the racks of clothing. I wonder if she hears everything. Like in her head can she here the clackers? Or the sounds of the phones ringing? Or does she just see and hear this? An empty room? Just me and her breathing in this big empty space? Before I can ask she drops her coat on the desk and heads straight for the windows…of course. The windows. Always.

These windows are about the only thing larger than anything at Elias-Clarke. In fact they're not windows, more like the entire back wall of her office…or old office rather. I bet she misses this. There is nothing blocking her view from floor to ceiling here. It's all just glass.

I'm not sure what to do or where to stand since she's yet to say anything…it's been about five minutes. Should I say something? Or maybe leave…give her space? I don't know, and since I don't know I go ahead and sit down in a chair that's been abandoned in front of her desk. It almost feels like old times but then again not at all. Really now that I think about it, it hardly ever feels like those old _Runway_ days except for when I'm wondering about what to wear once a week. And it probably helps that she never really brings up _Runway_…which is kind of weird. I figure if she wants to talk about work she will but all she ever does when I ask her 'So, how's work?', is say 'Oh, fine.'

Well…that's not true. Twice…_twice_ she's told me more than that but only until she realized what she was doing, then she stopped. I don't know why Miranda does that though. I don't mind her talking about _Runway_. She could if she wanted and I even told her that but she just doesn't…and then those two times all she said afterwards was 'Oh, it's only the same, boring, incompetence.' when I tried to get her to keep going.

Miranda moves and it startles me so I look up. She's turned to the side now, leaning against the glass and looking right at me. It reminds me of that time, that day…no. _No_, I can hardly think about that day without crying so I'm not. I'm _not_ going to think about that because it was only a comparison in its simplest, harshest…truest form. That's all it was. Because really…the day I met her, it's true, I _was_ the smart fat girl compared to everyone else. But I proved her wrong. Or I hope I have. I hope I've become more. Even though I left…I hope I've become more.

Her voice startles me and I blink. "I know what you're thinking about…" she says and my heart drops into my stomach. I don't want to talk about that. At all…but apparently Miranda does because she keeps going. Why am I not surprised that she can tell just by looking at me that my mind is back on that day and her words?

"That was a rather unpleasant way of…well…" She stops for a second and reaches for a necklace that she's not wearing. She always does that…plays with her necklace. It's a nervous habit I guess. Realizing that there isn't one there, Miranda plays with the collar of her blouse instead and I wait for her to continue. Finally she does. "Well it was a comparison of sorts but that is no excuse. The situation was, for my part, handled poorly." Miranda looks away from me now and back out the window before finishing. "Let's just say that it wasn't one of my finest moments and leave it at that…shall we?"

"I…well…yes, I mean I knew that you…" Great. Here it is. My words are stuck already and I haven't gotten to say _any_ of the things I wanted to say…had planned to say…great. But I've got to get over this. This is so stupid... I ball my hands into fists a couple of times and take a breath. I have to get over this. I have to learn to talk again or this is never going to work… "You could have fired me." I blurt out. "I could be wrong but I think you would have fired anyone else…" Alright…okay…see? I can do this. I hope.

"And why do you think that is?" Miranda responds, still looking out the window.

"I just…I don't know. It's silly I guess…" Maybe I can't do this after all. While I wait for her to speak I suck down the remainder of my big fat Mocha Coconut Frappuccino like it's my last meal before execution.

"No, no…you're right." She says to me and the window at the same time. I sit up a little straighter. Miranda is almost whispering. "I would have fired anyone else then…long before then even. But I couldn't. I tried though." She turns the side again and I can't look at her. I think this is going to hurt…no…I know this is going to hurt. "But you bested me…somehow, someway, you did it. Then…you left."

Yes…yes, this hurts. I had no idea she would do this. I had no idea I would bring her here then get this in return. I would have been fine with never discussing the past, ever, at any time…surely she knows that. Surely she knows that I'd like to just remain ignorant and play pretend…to pretend I didn't leave…to pretend she never said anything hurtful. Surely if she wants me to leave that 'smart fat girl' stuff behind then she can leave the rest behind too, hm? I mean…I just…oh, she's still talking.

"And it was easy…yes. It was quite easy to let you go, Andrea." I look up at her after this because I'm seriously about two seconds away from getting up all of the sudden. This can't get any worse for me right now. No worse at all. It was easy? Well of course it was… "I had thought at first that it would be rather difficult, but I was wrong." Oh, well that's nice Miranda. Please, repeat that one more time…

"You're upset because you can only imagine that I mean that in a cruel way…" Her voice is a whisper and I blink through tears that I just now realize I'm crying. Wow…I really need to just get out of here. Seriously.

"Don't."

"Don't what?" I say from the door because somehow between realizing I've been crying to three seconds later…I'm walking out again…

"Don't leave, Andrea." Miranda says from her place at the window. "You leaving for a third time isn't an option."

"What?" _Third_ time? My grip on the doorframe tightens and I swallow…I wish I still had some of my drink left. I don't understand this and I really don't understand what she's doing. Why doesn't she just let me leave? It'd be better than this. Better than waiting for her to say whatever cruel thing she's about to. And I only left Miranda once so I don't understand why she's saying 'third time'. She doesn't know I left after…wait. _Lily_. My thoughts of Lily are cut off for a second when I hear Miranda again.

"A third time…please, come sit down." From the window Miranda points to the chair behind the desk now but I go for the one I just vacated instead. She objects but I don't care and now she looks at me like she's totally pissed off. But…I don't care. Lily's a two-faced bitch and I _don't_ care so I sit right down in that chair anyway. Fuck them both. If Miranda wants to talk about shit that I clearly don't…well then I guess I can sit where ever I want to.

Miranda huffs out, "You're being unreasonable." then comes over to me, holding her hand out. "Come sit with me."

There's no way I'm taking her hand right now…no way, so I stare at Miranda until she rolls her eyes and goes back around the desk. Without a word she pushes the chair behind it out of the way and sits on top. Her feet dangle there going back and forth while she just stares out into nothing. Why is she so patient with me?

"I hardly knew what I was doing" Miranda says with her back to me of course. "When I started, you know. The magazine was nothing back then. Just a two dollar, pathetic waste of time and paper…and the two dollars." Her shoulders are a little rounded and her hands are gripping the edge of the desk as she sits there. "It took nearly two years really…to get things going. I almost…I almost gave up so many times." Miranda whispers and for some reason this makes me forget all about how angry I am at Lily and her big mouth.

Giving up my anger, I get up and go around the desk. While Miranda keeps talking softly, swinging her feet back and forth like a little girl, I sit down on the desk with her. From this vantage point everyone below looks like tiny bugs ready to be crushed under foot. I watch the tiny bugs go by and listen to her voice as she quietly tells me all about the past. All about the times she almost gave up. All about the fights she had to wage for what she knew was right for her magazine. All about the sacrifices and the things she's missed.

She tells me about the girls too, about sleepless nights and about how she had to practically schedule in the time to teach them how to walk right here in this office…and then that first divorce. I hadn't known the reason for it before now but apparently Eric couldn't remain faithful to the most beautiful person I've ever seen in all my life. Why he found it so hard, I'll never know. Sure she's not perfect…but she's perfect enough. But I guess that wasn't quite perfect _enough_ for Eric. Oh, well. She's better off. Just like she's better off without Stephen.

From there she talks about the move to the new building. This seems to perk up her mood a bit. Miranda had pushed for it of course just like she's pushed for everything else at Elias-Clarke. The company was expanding and all the magazines were not under one roof. Miranda thought that to be 'ill advised' so she pushed the board until they saw the light. Now they were a powerhouse, drawing upon each others resources when need be and the wealth in talent now housed under one roof was and still is, staggering.

"We'll be moving again, you know."

"Really?" I turn my head for the first time and look at her.

"Yes. It's years away really but by then the time will be right. I need more space. I'm out of air." This makes me chuckle. She looks over at me and rolls her eyes. "Something funny?"

"The thought of you…out of air. But then again…no, I can see how you'd feel that way. But will a new office really help that?"

"I don't know." She shrugs. "Hopefully to a degree…and we really do need more space. The Closet alone is…well. Never mind." Miranda sweeps the topic away with her hand and I know she's done talking about _Runway_. I want to make her keep going but I know better. The look on her face tells me not to push. Suddenly I feel her bump me with her shoulder. "You know what today is don't you?"

Uh…no. Am I supposed to? For a second I try hard to think of anything I might have missed but I can't come up with anything. Miranda tires quickly of waiting on me, of course, and fills me in. "Eight months ago today was Ralph Lauren's little benefit…remember?"

As if I will ever forget… "Oh, yeah." I reply but my voice falters when I remember how it made me feel to see her there. Quickly I recover and clear my throat. "You snuck up on me."

Shyly she replies, "Yes."

Wait…she counted? I shake my head at my own idiocy of not catching on three seconds ago. "You counted?" That's all I say because I know she'll know what I'm talking about. Biting my lip I just wait for her to answer me.

"Yes, I counted." She says matter-of-factly like I shouldn't be surprised at such a _fact_ at all, then she says, " Andrea, earlier…I only meant that it was easy to let you go because I knew…I knew I would see you again. Not that time in the street." She waves a hand in the air. "That hardly counted…"

Well I guess it's good to know that there's one thing we agree on that doesn't count, doesn't matter…

"I mean like today. Like right now. I knew I would see you again…but for a while you…you disappeared, Andrea. You left."

"Yeah…yeah, I did. You talked to Lily." Like Miranda, I can turn questions into statements pretty easily.

"No. I mean yes, eventually. But I knew well before now. I only found out from her, just recently, where you'd gone…after you left in Paris I subscribed to _The Mirror_. I told you that didn't I? Anyway…once I knew that's what you had settled into I subscribed. But then…your writing wasn't in the paper anymore. For two months…"

"Yeah…" I swallow hard and once again wish I still had some of my drink left. I don't want to talk about this.

"Is that all you can say?"

"I guess. I mean I…Miranda what do you want me to say?"

"Honestly," She sighs. "I don't know what I want you to say at the moment, Andrea but do not be angry with Lily. I asked her. She did not merely divulge information and frankly I had to pry it out of her with a spoon…so if you want to be angry, be angry with me. I suppose it would be fair to say that I…"

I cut her off here because I know what's 'fair' to say way better than Miranda does at this point. "If you knew I was gone and if you were so damned _interested_…why didn't you ask _me_? Why didn't you come on over and ask me? A long, long time ago." Before I say another word I jump off the desk and stand closer to the window. I can't sit beside her. "You know where I live, Miranda. Roy dropped me off plenty times when you were in the car…I never moved. I bet you knew that too if you knew where I worked and when I _did_ or did _not_ have an article in the freakin' paper."

"Please, sit back down."

"No." I say with my back still turned. My insides are shaking and so is my voice. I can't believe she knew I was gone and she's got the nerve to question me about it but…damn it.

"You're being unreasonable again."

"You're not answering my questions."

"Fine then." She sighs and I can hear her shift on the desk but she doesn't get up. Thank God. I don't want her to get up. "Everything you've just said is entirely valid."

Wow. If this wasn't killing me right now I would go find something to burn on the desk as a sacrifice in thanks to God for the miracle I just heard. Miranda. Validating something right off the bat. No arguments. No 'that's ridiculous'. Just 'you're right', basically. But that still doesn't really answer my question. "That's great Miranda but you're not answering my question."

"I thought you would not receive that sort of thing very well; but I suppose it was more cowardice than anything. I knew though that we would meet again. Somehow."

"Well we did."

"Yes."

Miranda goes silent for a second and I almost turn around. Surely she's not done with this 'tell all' now? And apparently she's not…since she's off the desk now and her hand is on my shoulder.

"Please, come sit back down." Miranda asks but she doesn't wait for an answer. My reply gets lost in Miranda's hands. They're both on my shoulders now as she turns me around and presses me back toward the desk again. I have no choice but to sit back down. My heart drops into my stomach again…her hands are still on my shoulders.

"I was waiting on you, Andrea, but I see now that I must begin it." Begin what, I think but don't ask. Right now I can't talk. The words are stuck. Again…my words are stuck. "In these months I've often wondered if you would be the one to make an endeavor yet as more time goes by, the more I think that we've been waiting on the other. In fact...you might disagree, but for all intents and purposes we have essentially been dating for eight months. Surely you realize this?"

Oh. My. God. Now more than ever I can't say a word. Actually I can hardly breathe.

"Are you alright?" Miranda says as she cups my face with both her hands and tilts it up to meet hers. I haven't been looking at her all this time. The only thing that registers with me right now is that Miranda's eyes are light-blue.

"Yeah…I mean…I." That's it. That's all I've got.

"Shhh…you don't have to say anything. Just let me finish. I promise you that everything will be fine. Just let me finish." Miranda says this almost cautiously like she's trying to make sure I don't run. Lily pops into my mind again. I briefly wonder how much Miranda knows…

"Andrea, I find myself quite in love with you…" Her words fall on me like drops of rain. Washing me off. It reminds me of Paris. When I went back. I went back to find my phone…my sanity…I found neither one of those things but I did get cleaned off enough in the rain to find the thought that would carry me back to New York. The thought that I would see her again. Somehow. That's the only reason I came back.

Sadly enough she's been talking this entire time and I've missed most of it. Blinking back tears as my mind is still seeing pictures of those two months I try to listen again.

"I tried not to be. I was even back then and I tried not to be…then you left. Twice…and then walked right into that bookstore and I just… Andrea I was on the way to dinner with someone the night we first met at the gallery. I had a ridiculous, meaningless date. I made him drop me off there instead. I couldn't stay away from you. I can't…it simply did not seem right to be away from you anymore."

Now she almost looks like she's upset or in pain or I don't know what…it's hard to interpret because I _feel_ exactly how she _looks_. I've got to open my mouth. I've got say something. Anything. "Miranda, I…" That's as far as I get because she cuts me off.

"No. Don't say anything, Andrea." Miranda says as she puts a hand on the desk and leaves one hand on my cheek. "Don't say anything because I can't wait. I can't wait any longer for my first taste of you. I can't wait." And then Miranda doesn't wait anymore. She just leans into me and suddenly the entire room smells like rain.

I've thought about what this would be like many times. Many, many times but this hardly compares. Her lips are so soft and warm and it only takes me a second to lose everything in them. My hands had been gripping the edge of the desk this whole time but now they're in her beautiful hair, that I've wanted to touch for almost two years. We pull each other closer and go deeper. Her tongue reaches out and caresses mine, making me whimper. That does something to her because she instantly goes from very slow and gentle to very deep and down-right aggressive. It takes my breath away and makes me hang on tighter, winding my arms around her neck.

It's odd in a way but as she wraps her arms around my waist and spreads my legs until she's standing between them, I feel like I'm being put back together. Like I'm getting my sanity back. Like I never threw my phone away or even left…twice. Time is eventually lost and with every minute that I can't keep count of anymore, that feeling gets stronger and stronger until it's burning me up inside. _Life_. This is life filling me back up. That's exactly what this is.

Even though my mind is officially blown and gone, Miranda startles me all of the sudden. One of her hands leaves its place on my hip and plants itself firmly on the desk as she presses into me more with her body. I'm all but falling backwards as she leaves my mouth now too and moves down my neck. I have to let go of her and catch myself by putting a hand out behind me. I hear myself, I sound far away, say her name and even though it's definitely not my intention, she pulls up and brings me up with her. I start to protest but her eyes shut me up. They're not light-blue…I don't even know how to describe this color. They're…even lighter than that. I can't describe it.

"No...I apologize…" Miranda says nearly panting, breaking in my thoughts. Apologizing? No way… "I'm not making love to you in this room." Oh. Making love to me? Oh… Again she breaks in my thoughts and kisses me. Not deep though, but just enough to make me realize that she's dead serious then breaks away just an inch and says "I want to taste everything…your skin." She kisses me again in between her words. "Every inch…of you." Several times Miranda repeats this as she kisses me over and over, going down her list of every part of me that she wants to taste, and ending it by moving her hands up my thighs. By the time she's done I'm totally ready to say to _hell_ with not wanting to do all _that_ right here in this room. But I don't. I really don't want that because doing everything _I_ want to do, getting my _own_ first taste of everything that is Miranda…is going to require something a lot more comfortable than this desk.

But there is something I do want to do…or say. "Miranda?" I whisper in her ear since she's kissing my neck again…God can this woman kiss.

"Yes?" Miranda pulls away. Her face is flushed. It's beautiful. I give her a second to stand up straight and she puts both arms around me again. I'm actually proud that Miranda is making an attempt to listen to me because it certainly looks like she'd rather be doing something else.

"I left because I had to." I say with a broken voice. "I had to get away for a while." As soon as the words leave my mouth her expression softens and I feel her hands spread out across my back. It makes this easier since I never wanted to say any of this in the first place. "He didn't have too but Greg kept my job open for me…if I came back. I didn't know if I would." Her eyes blaze at this just like I knew they would. Without thinking I reach up and smooth my hands over her eye lids, closing them. When I let them gently move down over Miranda's cheeks and lips she kisses them. This makes me smile and I know I can keep going now. She's okay. "I wanted to take everything back, fix all my mistakes, or find a way to forget. None of that happened. I wandered around for a long time trying to just figure out a way to get over you but I couldn't. Something just took over eventually and I knew…I knew I would see you again. And then there you were."

I can't finish. I don't even know what else I would say at this point anyway because as usual my words are stuck. And I'm crying. Not hard. But I'm crying anyway. Right before I wipe my eyes with my shirt sleeves Miranda wipes them for me, brushing the tears away with her fingertips. My head is heavy now and I press my face into her hands then into rest my forehead in the center of her chest. Miranda takes a breath and starts to say something but stops. Instead she just wraps her arms around me and unknowingly gives me the seconds I need to find my words again.

"I thought I would never get a chance to tell you Miranda, how much I love you. I thought I'd never…I was so scared."

Miranda tightens her grip on me and I feel safe. I know she won't let me fall apart. In fact, I think my days of falling apart are nearly over. In fact, I think my first taste of being right again has finally shown up. In fact, I'm suddenly ready to go. I'm ready to leave this building and let its life start over just like mine is about to.

"I'm ready to go." I say, lifting my head. She's smiling at me. I've rarely seen her smile a true, genuine smile so this takes my breath away for a second, like so many other things about Miranda.

"I agree…but I've changed my mind about the festival." The way Miranda says this, almost in a shy way makes me laugh out-right. She rolls her eyes and a blush spreads across her face. "Next year…take me next year?"

"Yes." I say pushing her back a little so I can stand. "Next year." It feels good to say those two words because I know it's true. There will be a next year. "Where do you want to go?"

"Connecticut." She says like it's totally nothing now, not shy at all. I shake my head and laugh again.

"What's in Connecticut?"

"I passed a nice place there on the way to Maine a few weeks ago. We could…we could stay."

"Miriam Lofton wants to take me to Connecticut?"

This time it's Miranda's turn to laugh. "Yes." She says and kisses me quickly before grabbing her coat and my bag, pulling me toward the door the whole time. "She does. I can't make it all the way to Maine this time. Connecticut is quite far enough." Again she sounds so serious. I shake my head behind her and roll my eyes. Connecticut then…we'll go to Connecticut. As if I could or would say no.

"Alright then…Connecticut it is."

By the time we get to the lobby Miranda's got her coat back on and sunglasses perfectly in place. I've put myself together too but I highly doubt I look as 'perfect'. Not by a long shot. I follow behind her on the way out the door but once we're on the sidewalk she stops and waits until I'm beside her before we move on. Then I realize she forgot to put her hat back on. I mention it as we make our way but she waves off the idea, saying that she 'hardly cares'. I suppose it really doesn't matter. After all no one's paying attention to us. Today we're just two people out here together…getting our first taste of being right again after so long.

THE END


	7. Song 7 - Never Is A Promise

Title: Never is a Promise - Song 7

CD: Tidal by Fiona Apple

Beta: Peetsden

Fandom: Devil Wears Prada

Pairing: Miranda/Andy

Rating: PG13

Disclaimer: I don't own Devil Wears Prada or Fiona Apple.

Note: _This is a nice, short and rather light story. I suppose after #6 we could all use such a thing._

_**Never is a Promise **_

Miranda looked at her phone and let out another exasperated sigh. She was expecting a call in about thirty minutes and the very last thing she needed right now was a dead cell phone battery. "Roy, I assume you have your cell phone charger with you?"

"Yes, Miranda." He stuck his hand out and she gave him the phone. "It shouldn't take too long. This is one of those quick chargers…Thank God we have the same kind of phone, huh?"

Miranda rolled her eyes. "Of course we do, I gave it to you."

"Right. Well we have about forty-five minutes to an hour before we're back in the city."

"Roy, you know I cannot be late. This is very important." Miranda sat back in her seat and tried to focus on the scenery outside her window instead of the clock. She was already anxious enough without watching ever second tick by. They would get there on time.

"You won't be late. We'll get there in plenty of time." He said as he looked at her through the rearview mirror with a slight smile on his face. Miranda rolled her eyes again.

Laying her head back against the seat, Miranda continued to _not_ watch the clock. It had been a long week away; full of meetings that left her wondering why she was even there, better yet why she was still working – period. Everything had become so tedious and frankly quite boring in the industry she loved yet was a slave to at the same time. Lately it seemed like almost no one was interested in originality…which was becoming a deal breaker for Miranda.

When the originality, the true talent, the style were gone…well then what the hell was the point? Clearly Miranda's perception had changed and was still changing. Into what exactly she couldn't say but everything seemed different to her now. Now there was more. Now she was able to see beyond the box she had always lived in. The lighting in her world was even changed now, causing the shades and shadows to stretch further and reach her in so many new ways.

But Miranda's perception of the world was not the only thing that had changed lately.

She was painting and drawing again. That was probably the biggest, most notable, outward change. For a long time, especially the years she was with Stephen, Miranda had placed her _personal_ creativity aside. It simply had not been safe to share. There had been too much at stake…too many chances for it to be trampled on so Miranda learned to hide it, to turn it off, and to not mention a great many things.

But now, now she was in a uniquely different set of circumstances. Finally, Miranda was seen for who she was and that inevitably caused her to let go and to regain the fire and passion for the many things she used to love but had given up. Her soul was in danger no longer and for the first time in her life; Miranda was more protected and loved than ever.

It had been with this safety in mind…and with a little help; that Miranda literally tossed the entire contents of her study into the hallway in favor of a stack of blank canvases and boxes upon boxes of long forgotten art supplies. The room looked much better that way, in her opinion, but the hallway was still a complete disaster. One day she would get around to cleaning that up. For now her main objective was to keep uncovering what she had lost. Herself. Never again would she hide and _that_ was a promise she could keep.

"Miranda, your phone's going off." Roy waved his hand to get her wayward attention back and she leaned forward quickly, trying to cover her excitement.

"Well! Give it to me."

"Miranda, the caller id…it's Stephen." Roy held the phone up to show her.

"Oh…" That was definitely _not_ the phone call she'd been expecting. "Fine, give it to me. If at some point during this conversation I demand that you pull over so I can jump off the nearest bridge…_don't_ do it."

Roy stifled a laugh and handed over the phone.

"Hello, Stephen."

"Miranda, how are you?"

Small talk? Really? _No._ "I'm the same as always – very busy. What do you want?"

"I want to talk."

_No._ He wanted something. His tone was far too sweet for a courtesy call. "Isn't that generally why one dials the phone, Stephen?"

"Yes, it is. Cut me some slack today, Miranda."

Why did he always have to be such a whiner? "Alright, since you asked so nicely. Now – what do you want?"

"You know what I want. I want to start over…give it another shot."

Miranda recalled hearing the phrase "abso-fucking-lutely not" used by a certain someone just the other day in a rather lively discussion about a recently painted nude portrait—of that certain someone—that Miranda wished to display in the foyer. The phrase was a perfect fit here. But…

"Excuse me? Need I remind you for the fifth time that _you_ are the one that wanted this divorce?" Roy coughed and cut her a glare in the mirror. Miranda made a slicing motion across her throat and he put a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing. She thought about raising the privacy screen but this was nearly as much fun for Roy as it was for her.

"Damn-it Miranda, I love you."

"I realize you did once but you and I see things quite differently now." Very differently. "You did us both a favor by filing. So – thank you for that." Most definitely.

"Miranda, you can't mean that…we just grew apart. That's all. We can get that back if we just try. I told you that I'd never give up but I did…I can keep that promise now and make things good again. Really Miranda…you've given up the fight…don't do that. Please."

"Stephen, do not make promises you cannot afford to make in the first place. Just don't. What is this really about? Is it about money? You're already getting quite enough."

"No!" It sounded like he was spiting into the phone. _This_ was the Stephen she knew so well. "I don't need your money!"

If he didn't need her money then why in God's name was he calling her and why in God's name were they headed straight to court instead of settling this like two _amicable_ adults? "Stephen, don't lie to me…it's like all your promises. You cannot _afford_ either one."

"I'm not lying about the money and I'm not lying about wanting you…loving you."

Okay, now she was fast becoming ill from this drivel he was spouting. How pathetic. Instead of vomiting it would probably better to just end this fun little game right here and now…once and for all. "Stephen, I want you to listen to me very carefully. _Very_ carefully. Are you listening?"

"Yes, Miranda." He said with a hint of sarcasm. "I'm listening."

"Good because this is the last time we're having this discussion. First of all: You asked for…no _demanded_ this divorce so therefore you shall have it because frankly darling, I want as far away from you as humanly possible. Second of all: tomorrow my attorney will be contacting you bright and early. I want this done and I want it done _now_. You've been stringing me along for six months. There will be no going to court, Stephen. We will settle this between our attorneys and then you and I will both be free. Thirdly: do not ever call me again. _Ever_. You will speak to me through my attorney or not at all. Preferably not at all. And God help you if you _ever_ show up at my door step because then you'll find yourself in jail. I do hope this clears things up for you. That's all."

Miranda ended the call and Roy let go of the steering wheel completely to clap in praise. "Enough…enough. Don't get me killed." She chuckled and tossed the phone back into his waiting hand. "I hope he understood all of that."

"I bet he got the message this time. You were pretty…clear."

"Yes…I believe I was." Miranda rested her head back against the seat again and closed her eyes. They were only about twenty minutes away from her _appointment_. She was determined to be calmed down and in a better mood by then. Nobody need suffer all because of Stephen putting her into a near fit.

Five minutes into meditating, her phone rang again and before Roy could check the caller id she was already reaching over the seat for it, ready to scream. "I swear, I will kill him. I am _not_ beyond such an act. I _will_ kill him." Miranda fell back into her seat and finally looked at the screen. Oh…

"Darling, hello." Roy smirked into the mirror at Miranda's drastic change of tone. Again she made that slicing motion across her throat and he turned his attention back to the road.

"Hey!" Said the very excited voice on the other end…Andrea. "I can't wait to see you. Don't get me wrong – walking all over Italy with my sister is the bomb but if it had been for one more day I'm pretty sure I would have died."

"Andrea, don't be so dramatic. You would not have _died_. Your feet might have…but the rest of you would have been fine." Miranda impatiently looked out the window for a glimpse of the airport. They were still not close enough.

"No, I'm pretty sure I would have died. Just trust me. Hey, I got you something." Miranda could hear a lot of commotion in the background as is common for airports and had to press the phone closer to her ear.

"What's that?"

"Watercolor pencils."

Miranda laughed. One thing was for certain, she would never be bored and nothing would ever be mundane in her life again with Andrea around. "You had to go all the way to Italy to procure watercolor pencils?"

"No…silly. But I saw them and they look cool-so? You have watercolor pencils now. I might even try them."

"Darling, your artistic talent consists of staying between the lines in a coloring book…but if you insist."

"Hey, shut up! I'll have you know my Superman coloring book is a true work of art."

"Yes…I'm sure. Where are you?"

"I'm headed for the door…probably ten minutes away. The lines were…argh. Oh, and guess what."

"What?" Miranda could feel her face go red and heart rate quicken as she checked her watch and looked out the window. They were only minutes away from each other now but this waiting was killing her.

"I got the _most_ fucked up phone call right when I got off the plane…totally _fucked_ up. It was _Nate_. Can you believe that shit?"

Miranda rolled her eyes and smiled. "Yes, darling…_yes_ I can."

THE END

_Note: Yes, I know. You feel like you've not heard the whole story. I know. I know. But—you will! Another song in this project follows this tale quite nicely. Be patient. _


	8. Song 8 - The Child Is Gone

Title: The Child is Gone – Song 8

CD: Tidal by Fiona Apple

Beta: Peetsden

Fandom: Devil Wears Prada

Pairing: Miranda/Andy

Rating: PG13

Disclaimer: I don't own Devil Wears Prada or Fiona Apple.

Note: This is the song that started it all. :o)

_**The Child is Gone **_

So it was finally here. The September Issue was done and everybody was partying hard courtesy of Miranda's deep pockets. Every year she threw this party from the top floor of the Elias-Clarke Building and every year it got bigger. Andy wondered if anyone but her knew that Miranda planned and paid for this all by herself. No one helped her, yet as far Andy knew, everyone assumed that this was a _Runway_ event planned by some random idiot. But it wasn't. This was all Miranda and this was her way of saying 'thank-you' without actually having to say the words. Because God…if she dared say that more than once a year even to Andy, the _Runway_ logo would start to crack right there on the face of the magazine. And if she said 'thank-you' to all these people, one-by-one? Well then the entire Elias-Clarke building would probably crumble; so a party really was for the best and clearly not as dangerous.

With a glass of wine in hand, Andy headed over to one of the many windows that looked out over the city. She really wasn't in the mood for much partying. It had been going on for a while now but everyone was still going strong. Except for her…and expect for Miranda, who had disappeared some time ago. Too bad the weather was so crappy or Andy would just leave now and walk home. She would wait it out a while longer though.

It had been raining for days off and on…even now it was moving in stages; ranging from a light drizzle to an all out downpour. Maybe it meant something was coming. Andy rolled her eyes at her reflection in the glass. Her mind loved to play tricks on her. It was all that writing and daydreaming she did that never really got her anywhere. If you stop and think about it long enough, anything can mean something is coming…anything.

Like the breaking of a marriage engagement; what exactly was coming because of that little event? Andy didn't know but surely something was on the horizon. And the way it happened made her feel like in some small way; it was her fault. But was she upset or apologetic? _Nope_. Weston was all wrong for Miranda. Well _any_ man was wrong for Miranda but this just seemed twice as bad as anything else. The guy gave Andy the creeps and didn't even come close to treating Miranda the way she should be treated…the way Andy did and would treat her if given the chance.

To make matters worse Miranda didn't seem that into him to begin with. Not that she ever seemed _into_ anybody but Andy could just tell something wasn't right. It was almost as if Miranda had mentally checked out and just went along with it. She was quiet, she was withdrawn…Miranda was depressed. Big time. Yet no one saw it. Not even Nigel. So then—was it all her imagination?

_No_, it wasn't her imagination and _no_ everything was _not_ okay because four weeks ago, a few days after Miranda agreed to marry Weston The Creep, she and Miranda were in the car late one night with the privacy screen up and Andy asked her… "Miranda…why are you doing this?" Yep, that's right! Andy just came right out and asked Miranda in her own little quiet way. She of course expected to get chewed up and spit out like yesterdays lunch but no…Miranda looked Andy right in the eye and said "I don't know." And the way she said it was weird, just _weird_. Almost like that was the very first time she had actually given the idea the attention it deserved.

But anyway, the very next day Miranda called it off and Weston The Creep was history. Just like that. Andy nearly jumped for joy but refrained. Miranda was not happy. This turn of events, this change of her mind, did not improve anything at all. It just took one person out of the equation so Andy was basically right back to square one, still trying to figure out what was wrong with Miranda. At least he was gone though.

To hell with it...there was absolutely no point in being at this stupid party, Andy thought as she set her now empty glass on a near-by table. She was ready to go and to _hell_ with the rain too. If she could find something in _The Closet_ that was even close to a rain-coat then she was walking to the subway. Forget taking a cab. In fact she was going to change all together. Somewhere in there was a pair of jeans that Nigel could live without, she was sure of it. Andy nodded her goodbyes to a few people that bothered to notice her departure and headed down the elevator to the _Runway_ offices.

Thank God it was quite. With everyone in party mode, no one was in here…hell; half the lights weren't even on. Andy made her way to _The Closet_ in the dark and began picking through a stack of jeans. She changed quickly, throwing on a _Runway_ logo t-shirt, the jeans, and a pair of boots that had long ago been discarded. Nobody would miss those either. From there she dug around some more and found a trench coat and tossed her own clothes into Nigel's office for safe keeping. Now it was time to get the hell out of here and go home. Chinese take-out and a bottle of wine were most definitely in her future. Surely that would make her feel better. Even just a little bit.

When she went around the corner and was just about to pass Miranda's domain…it finally registered that the glass door to Miranda's office was open. Then she saw her...Miranda was standing at the window behind her desk with her back to the door. The fingers of her left hand were lightly tracing the rain drops as they made their way down the glass only to disappear and be replaced by more. It was an endless process, not unlike _Runway _itself. Never-ending…always moving and replacing itself with yet another issue to produce.

Andy decided it was time to stop having philosophical revelations when she heard Miranda's voice.

She was singing. It was very faint and Andy had to put her ears into overdrive to hear it but it was happening and it was beautiful. Yet even without that beautiful sound there was always Miranda. She was beautiful without anything else added. Out of the blue Andy suddenly came to a decision. She had to go to Miranda. There was just no other way. She _had_ to go to her.

Andy took off her coat, laying it along with her bag very quietly on the floor and with silent steps she made her way into Miranda's office. There was music playing softly on the laptop, mixing in with the sound of rain hitting the windows.

Just as Andy reached the desk she could tell by Miranda's change in posture that she knew someone was there. And yes…as Andy came around the desk, Miranda turned her head ever so slightly but didn't say a damn word. She just turned back to the window and kept tracing those elusive raindrops.

Andy stopped about a foot from her and leaned against the window ledge where Miranda stacked all those artsy books that she really didn't give a shit about. It was all for show. "You have a beautiful voice, Miranda."

"I doubt that." She said quietly and followed her reply by continuing with the song but only humming it now. It was still beautiful.

There was a lump in her throat but Andy kept going. It would be better to just say and do what she wanted to from here on out. After all, she'd made up her mind and if it cost her her job then _whatever_. Getting fired would be better than walking out right now. She simply couldn't hold it in any longer. "I'm sorry you're hurting." Andy didn't exactly know _all_ the reasons, although she certainly had a few ideas, but there was no doubt in her mind that Miranda was indeed hurting. On several levels.

"Hurting? Is that how you would define it?"

"Yes. I wish you would talk to me…tell me. You know you can, don't you?" Andy began tracing her own set of rain drops that were just next to Miranda's shoulder.

"I do not require your sympathy, Andrea, and there is really nothing to discuss."

Ah, she would be stubborn to the very end. "You don't trust me?"

"Your observation skills will never cease to amaze me. I trust you; but talking about this will not improve anything."

"I think you're wrong." Andy moved six inches closer and continued to move her fingers over the window. She noticed that Miranda's hand had stilled in its motion yet she kept her palm against the glass with fingers spread as if she was trying to cover as much of the surface as possible.

"I'm sure you do. Are you going to force me to talk?"

As if she could force Miranda to do anything. "No, but when you're ready I'll still be standing right here." Taking a deep breath and saying a quick prayer, Andy moved forward the last six inches and with bravery she didn't know existed, slipped both her arms around Miranda's waist. This had better work because beyond it – Andy had no idea what to do from here. All she knew was that she needed to comfort Miranda because in comforting her, she would be comforting _herself_ as well.

By some miracle Miranda did not withdraw, but her body stiffened in retaliation to this foreign touch because remember…you don't touch Miranda Priestly. Her waist was obviously so small that Andy's arms were wrapped around her in a very tight and secure way. It felt good and hopefully would serve to keep Miranda from going anywhere too quickly. Andy instinctively knew that Miranda probably had not been held like this, by someone who meant no harm, in possibly…ever maybe.

For a while they just stood there, in the darkness with only the rain, the music and their breathing. Then another song came on. It was very familiar to Andy and apparently Miranda too. She started to hum again. Andy wanted her to sing but wasn't about to ask. Like so many other things, if Miranda wanted to sing she would, if she didn't she wouldn't.

"I like this song." Andy said and unable to help herself she kissed Miranda's shoulder and almost cried when Miranda's body relaxed because of it. Maybe everything was going to be okay after all. For both of them. Since that seemed to work out without anyone dying, Andy rested her cheek against the side of Miranda's head and kissed her hair, thankful for their height difference. Miranda didn't have any shoes on so that was an added advantage as well. For some reason being a bit taller than Miranda had always given Andy a strange but warm feeling.

"I like it too. I would say it is one of her best but she is hardly done." Miranda let go of the window and rested both her arms on top of Andy's, slowly sliding her hands over them as they traveled to their resting place, gently cupping Andy's elbows. "I'm old Andrea…"

Andy kissed her shoulder again "Numbers are just that, numbers."

"I agree…but I feel a hundred. Yet there are some things that I am only just now figuring out. You were right, you know. Even though you never actually said it, he wasn't right for me…none of them were. What was I thinking?"

"I have no idea Miranda but thank God you finally figured it out." Andy kissed her cheek this time and Miranda leaned into it just enough to make her do it again. This was definitely working.

"Will you help me, Andrea? Will you help me…?" Miranda let go of Andy's elbows and lifted her hands to her own face, rubbing her temples and her forehead. "Lately I just…I have no idea. I feel like I'm going crazy. Losing direction…Nothing can make me right. I kept myself blind to so many things for so long and now?" Miranda put one hand back on Andy's arm and kept the other one free, using it to gesture into the air. "Somewhere between _you_ and _Weston_ and this goddamn _magazine,_ I have lost my mind, among other things. But at the same time I feel, in some ways, better." Miranda moved her free hand back down and rubbed Andy's forearms again. "I am making absolutely _no_ sense. See, I _have_ lost my mind. You asked me what's wrong and I cannot even tell you in a way that seems reasonable."

"Hm…" Andy kissed the shell of Miranda's ear and moved down the side of her neck slowly, whispering between those delicate kisses, "You're making sense and you haven't lost your mind. I think you just need to know that you belong somewhere…besides here in this building. I think you need to know you have more."

"You might be right." Miranda leaned her head back a bit and sank against Andy, truly resting in her arms.

"Yeah, I might be. As for Stephen…and Weston The Creep…those were for sure moments of insanity but like I said…you figured that out. You're not a lost cause." Andy smiled in the dark and pulled Miranda against her tighter, if that was even possible.

"Perhaps your observation skills aren't as far gone as I thought. Weston The Creep? _Really_?" Miranda held her hands now, rubbing her thumbs over Andy's knuckles repeatedly.

"Yep, Weston The Creep. He can't take care of you like I can Miranda."

Miranda inhaled and exhaled as if she was cleansing herself then turned in Andy's arms. "I know…I know." Cupping the side of Andy's head with one hand and putting her other arm around Andy's neck, Miranda leaned in and kissed her. It was very slow and very gentle and full of meaning. Andy held in the urge to go faster, knowing that _this_ was what Miranda needed and probably what she needed too, regardless of what her brain was telling her at this very moment. Both of Miranda's hands were now holding her head in place and she moaned when Andy sucked at her bottom lip. Andy had always wanted to do that.

When Miranda's tongue teased her own their kiss deepened as did the passion between them. Her hands were on Miranda's hips now, gripping them tightly and pressing them firmly together. Moments later Miranda finally broke away. "This will not be one sided." She said while trying to catch her breath. "I am fully capable of taking care of you as well and plan on doing so. In many ways." Even in the dark Andy could feel Miranda blush and kissed both her cheeks.

"I know you are and I know you will…in many ways." Now Andy was blushing and cleared her throat to continue. "Are you hungry? I know a great place with Chinese take-out, cheap wine and a semi-comfortable bed. The bed…of course is an…optional enjoyment." While she waited for Miranda to answer, Andy wrapped her up tight in a hug that Miranda returned.

"Just don't leave me…help me find myself again, Andrea. If you can do that then hideous take-out is quite acceptable…as is the cheap wine and the semi-comfortable bed."

"Well then we should go so I can get started." She laughed.

Miranda kissed her again then stepped away, slipping on her shoes. "Yes, let's go…and look." She pointed to the window. "It's not raining now…let's walk to the subway. I've never done that before."

"Never? You've lived here how long and you've _never_ taken the subway?" Andy followed her out and grabbed her things off the floor.

"Never. You have a lot of work ahead of you, darling." They slipped on their coats and quickly made their way to the elevator where Miranda, impatient as ever, pressed the button about ten times; more than ready to experience hideous take-out, cheap wine and that semi-comfortable bed.

THE END


	9. Song 9 - Pale September

Title: Pale September – Song 9

CD: Tidal by Fiona Apple

Beta: Peetsden

Fandom: Devil Wears Prada

Pairing: Miranda/Andy

Rating: PG13

Disclaimer: I don't own Devil Wears Prada or Fiona Apple.

_**Pale September **_

As she looked at the beautiful sight in front of her, Miranda was almost positive that if she glanced down right now, there would be a pile of armor at her feet that had been slowly and methodically removed over time. Logic told her that if she did not pick up the pieces, after a while they would all turn to rust. Logic told her she should try to pick the pieces up, put them on…see if they still fit. They wouldn't though. Miranda knew this. Each piece was now bent, crumpled beyond recognition. If she was ever going to wear armor of any kind again…it would have to be re-made.

Miranda finally looked down and the only thing she saw was her bare feet on a thick blanket of carpet. There was no armor…just this carpet, just this room, and just this woman in her bed.

Turning away from the bed where she had been watching Andrea sleep, Miranda quietly made her way to the large, expansive bedroom window that was draped in fine, white lace. It was billowing out, gently moving with the early morning breeze. She fingered the lace and pulled a panel back just enough to see out. The street was quiet and there was a slight chill in the air…it was late September after all.

The entire city was buzzing with change on the horizon. That was the thing about New York City. It might be a congested hell-hole most of the time but you could still feel the transformation coming from season to season. Miranda knew, especially now, that this year she would feel those changes more profoundly than ever.

A light gust of wind caused the curtains to engulf her and her hair blew back from her face. She took a deep breath…the air even smelled different today. Miranda wondered if her heightened sense of awareness this morning was actually because of the changing seasons or if it had more to do with the events of the previous evening. Perhaps a bit of both.

The wind picked up again and Miranda heard a slight rustle of sheets and blankets behind her. Andrea was sinking deeper into the covers no doubt seeking out warmth. Miranda shut the window as quietly as possible and Andrea's slow and even breathing returned. Not wanting to leave the room but not wanting to lay back down either, Miranda opted for sitting on the edge of the bed. Andrea was more or less in the middle as was her habit so Miranda chose the side that Andrea was facing. She had to see her face. Miranda eased herself down on the mattress and held her breath for a moment in an effort to make her movements still and unnoticeable. It worked.

Miranda would never become accustomed to the peacefulness that spread across Andrea's face not only as she slept, but also as she moved through life very much awake. Nothing could weigh her down. Nothing. Not daily hardships, not the hustle and bustle of the city, not the general aggravations of work, not the tedious and sometimes outright horrible force of nature know as Miranda Priestly…nothing. She was even un-phased by her own feelings of passion, and love and what it might mean to lose it all. It was as if Andrea had resigned herself to float along on the surface and handle life as it all came toward her. Nothing was unattainable. Nothing wasn't worth the risk, and all those qualities in Andrea had at one time scared Miranda to death.

When this began, Miranda's armor was all but intact and in perfect working order. All it was, in the beginning, was a look shared across the street. One look. Nothing significant. Nothing to raise any alarms over. It was only a small stone hitting her shield, causing a small dent. Nothing to be alarmed over at all.

That small stone became a full sized rock a week later when they saw one another again across that same street in almost the exact same position. This time Andrea crossed the yellow line of demarcation and came over to Miranda's side. This time they spoke. Pleasantries, or what pleasantries Miranda could manage, were exchanged; which turned into a silent car ride to drop Andrea off at her apartment. It was innocent. It was the polite thing to do. Yet, since when had Miranda Priestly done the polite thing? Yes, it was more than a small stone, it was a rock and it caused far more than a small dent.

Things like this kept happening until one evening Miranda found herself at a quiet table in the back of Smith and Wollensky's. She was not alone of course. Andrea was there across from her with a bag of artillery that ranged in size from small stones, to rocks and on to boulders even.

It was the way she smiled, her laugh, the way she used her hands when she spoke about something that excited her…it was all those things and more; a steady assault. Soon after, Miranda realized that she needed to fight back. Up until then she had let these attacks go unchallenged and that was no longer wise.

The next few times they saw one another across the street Miranda blatantly ignored her, yet made sure that Andrea had at least seen her briefly before retreating to the safety of her car.

A little time passed and Miranda was almost sure that her _attacks_ had produced the desired effect. Like a fool she became comfortable in this…almost. There was without a doubt a part of her, a very small part of her, that regretted her actions; but even so – she knew it was the right thing to do. Her armor must be protected at all cost. It had taken too much time to build.

Yet, Andrea, who viewed nothing as unattainable of course, found a way to catapult herself straight over the first set of walls of what Miranda considered one of her best lines of defense: The Elias-Clarke building itself. As luck would have it, Andrea's pass was never revoked and she used this tool to gain entrance and one day Miranda found herself being asked to lunch. She would have fired Emily if Emily had been at her desk. As it was she fired the new girl instead; who had allowed Andrea to simply slip right through the doors and into Miranda's inner sanctum. Miranda did so right there in front of Andrea too and the woman didn't bat a _single_ eye lash over it. Clearly Andrea had known this would happen and had not cared one bit about the consequences.

That alone was a major blow to Miranda; perhaps the worst one yet. It showed Miranda that Andrea would stop at nothing…that she very well might get whatever she was fighting for, or at least die trying. Miranda had never had such a well matched opponent in her life.

Deciding to relent, just this once, Miranda went to lunch anyway then straight home to strategize, to hammer out the dents, to seal the cracks in her armor. It was easy to see that the repair bills would be steep.

'Just this once' proved to be a lie. There would be lunches, dinners, and then finally an impromptu dinner at the townhouse. Make no mistake about it though, in between all this Miranda fought back in all her practiced ways. Spiteful remarks, meaningless rants that at one time would have reduced the other woman to tears; she canceled dinners unexpectedly and sometimes simply did not show up at all.

Yet, every time Miranda launched such attacks she was met with formidable opposition. Andrea took the remarks and rants with ease and as for the cancellations and no-shows; she would either e-mail or leave Miranda a kind voicemail to say that she hoped everything was alright and wished Miranda a good evening.

This impromptu dinner at the townhouse would produce the beginning of the end. The dinner was a shared one with the twins and Miranda never would know what possessed her to do it, to involve them in this game, this battle of wills. But involve them she did and they enjoyed it far more than she anticipated. She'd hoped the girls would bring their own artillery to the table but they did _not_. Not one time did they come to her aid and proved to be sorry land owners in Miranda's kingdom.

By the end of the evening Miranda was done and ready to have Andrea out of the house. It was all too much for her. Upon escorting the young woman to the door and dryly wishing her a safe journey home, Miranda felt herself being surrounded on all sides by two lanky yet strong arms around her neck. A hug. She was being hugged. While it was an unusual tactic, it was effective in stunning Miranda. She did not move, she did not return the embrace. This was not the worst though. The worst came seconds after with Andrea's arms still around her when she said '_Don't say anything mean, just let me hug you. I'm not going to hurt you, Miranda_.'

It was then that Miranda felt the _paldrons_ untie themselves from behind her neck and slide to the floor resulting in a deafening crash. This is the pieces of armor that fit over the shoulders and arms. These were the first pieces to go and as hard as she might try, Miranda was never able to get them to fit correctly again.

The _gauntlets_, worn to protect the hands, would be the next to go. After the paldrons were destroyed, Miranda's efforts were doubled but were met with the same force and determination as before. Andrea never once relented or weakened her attack. Her next move was to invite the twins to a movie and oh, what a well-played move it was. They of course were overjoyed and Miranda was hard pressed to say no, so she allowed it. What she had not anticipated was being invited along. Andrea waited until the last moment to ask her. Well-played move indeed.

In fact Miranda was so caught off guard that she said 'yes' without even realizing it. This new addition thrilled the twins and again they did _not_ come to her aid. In the middle of said movie, Miranda still to this day did not remember what it was called, a cell phone rang out and each of them reached down to their respective bags to shut off the offending noise. It turned out to be Andrea's but their hands brushed, lingered there…then intertwined. Miranda felt the gauntlets slip off and hit the floor in another deafening crash.

The twins interrupted by turning around and whispering for them to 'shut the phone off already'. Once the phone was finally shut off they sat back up in their seats and since the armor covering Miranda's hands was gone, there seemed to be no legitimate reason to not hold Andrea's hand again. So she did. Miranda promised herself that tomorrow she would sit down and regain her focus and draw up a new plan of action.

Her plan was a dinner, a nice evening in town with as much privacy as one could find on a Friday night in New York City. Miranda would let her down easy. Andrea would be less likely to fight back if they were in public. She tried to explain but much of the time Miranda was severely distracted by the dress Andrea wore. It was not only low cut but it was equally short, yet not in a cheap, vulgar way. Her hair was up in an elegant twist, exposing her throat and it was as if she was saying '_here I am_', in all sorts of irritating ways. The combination of it all made Miranda weak in the knees.

The _quisse, greave, _and the_ sabaton_, these are the sections of armor that are placed on the legs and feet, were all stripped from her that night and dinner lasted far longer than need be to allow Miranda time to regain her strength.

After this, Miranda never could catch up with Andrea. She was always one step behind and Miranda Priestly had never been one step behind anybody before. Not ever.

Miranda's shining helmet, or _sallet helmet_ as it is sometimes called because of the ridges at the top, was the next to fall. It was at an opera – _Carmen_ to be exact. A ridiculous opera and Miranda had no idea what she'd been thinking, but she had these tickets and…well. Her defensives were weak.

It started just as that dinner had…with the dress. It was a Vivian Westwood…deep red, strapless. Miranda had never been at such a loss for words to describe a dress in her life so like a fool she simply told Andrea that the dress was merely 'acceptable'.

That night, introductions to acquaintances could not be avoided. Miranda had thought little of this in her initial invitation but now that they were here there was little help for it. It wouldn't do to introduce her as her '_ex_-assistant' when in all honesty Miranda could hardly remember those days now. So, she was just 'Andrea' and nothing more, nothing less, nothing but an equal.

With her equal she held hands and watched Andrea become swept up in the innocence of never having seen this particular opera before. Who doesn't cry the first time they see it? At its close Andrea wiped her eyes one more time and before they stepped out of their box she turned and asked '_how do I look_?' What else was there to do? Miranda took off the helmet made from polished steel and kissed her opponent gently on the lips and proceeded to go one step further and confirm that yes, she looked beautiful, more beautiful than was logically possible.

The dates, the kissing, all of it, went on without hardly any words being exchanged on the matter. It was just happening around them and yes, Miranda still made attempts now and again to keep hold of her armor but soon she would lose one more piece.

Around May she made a trip to Italy for a string of meetings and conferences. The girls begged Miranda to forgo the nanny and have Andrea stay with them instead. Andrea of course readily agreed simply happy that they wanted her to be with them in the first place.

Unbeknownst to everyone else, it was always hard for Miranda to leave her children behind for work. Whether it be Paris fashion week or something else entirely, it was hard. This time it seemed to be much harder but Miranda chose to push that feeling away with her shield. Surely not. It couldn't have been because of this woman who had worked her way into Miranda's very center. Of course not.

All week it felt like a slab of marble was sitting on her chest, wearing away at her polished breastplate. Besides her shield, it was her last line of defense. To know it was being tampered with was shaking Miranda to the core. This could not be. She wasn't supposed to come to need Andrea. It was never supposed to go that far. Yet it had.

By the end of the week Miranda couldn't take the pressure of that slab of marble anymore and canceled the last day of her business. It could just go on without her. Without calling anyone in New York, Miranda boarded a private jet for home. Only when she arrived around one in the morning did she call Andrea and inform her that she was on her way to the townhouse.

What met her when she arrived broke her breastplate right in half, producing the loudest, most deafening crash yet. Really Miranda had not expected Andrea to meet her at all but as soon as the door to the cab opened, the door to the townhouse did too. Andrea came out in nothing but a robe…barefoot and wrapped Miranda in an embrace that lasted until the cabdriver had successfully hauled her entire set of luggage into the doorway. He muttered something that sounded a lot like 'get a room' so that's exactly what Miranda did. Without asking how Andrea felt about the subject, Miranda left the luggage in the foyer and quietly they made their way up to Miranda's bedroom.

In that night Miranda found a comfort and strength that she did not know existed. It was all consuming yet at the same time it wasn't enough. Being with Andrea like that only left her wanting more…which would likely kill her one day. Knowing this, Miranda kept her shield polished. No further defenses could be lost to this women or it would mean devastation and total ruin.

One of the best ways to do this was to never, ever allow herself to say those three words that meant so much. Miranda had never said them to anyone but her children and really meant it anyway so why in God's name should she start now? It would leave her wide open….beyond defenseless.

For several months this went on. Never once did Miranda tell Andrea that she loved her but oh, Andrea certainly let those words spring from her own lips at any opportunity that presented itself. The oddest thing was that the first time she officially informed Miranda of said love; she also informed Miranda that she did _not_ need to hear it in return. This baffled Miranda and was definitely a hitch in her plan because Andrea's reason behind it hurt; which was something Miranda did not know she could feel. Or maybe it was guilt? Or both? Whatever it was Miranda felt it and held up her shield against it. '_I don't want you to say it Miranda. If you say it now…you'll run away from me and I might not be able to catch you. I don't want you to say it…_'

That _hurt_. Andrea had Miranda's number. She knew exactly what would happen and had set about laying a secure foundation to protect Miranda against her own fears. Andrea was making it _okay_ for Miranda to be cold, to use her defenses. She was letting Miranda know that she would still be here regardless.

So it went on like that with Miranda never telling Andrea how much she was truly loved and needed, all the while Andrea was telling her that very thing every day. Well…Miranda did find _one_ way to say those things without actually _saying_ them. She simply asked Andrea to move into her home.

When asked, just as Miranda had already anticipated, Andrea said no. Miranda thought it might be because of those three words the woman had yet to hear but Miranda was quickly told otherwise. It wasn't that at all. It was Andrea's fear of the press and the reaction of the girls. She did not care about her own name in the paper but was worried for the three of them. And last but not least she told Miranda '_I have a home in you no matter where I live_.' This warmed Miranda up like a fire on a cold winter's day.

A 'family' meeting was held, it would be the first of many, and the girls were concerned more with the idea of eating Andrea's homemade lasagna more often than they were with the press. Miranda confessed her love for the lasagna too and declared that the press would say and do what they wanted and so would Miranda. Whether they figured it out or not was something Miranda found irrelevant. That seemed to be enough for Andrea and within one weekend she was moved.

The press of course had their week or _three_ of fun but soon grew tired of the newest celebrity couple that went out to eat once or twice a week and filled their weekends with soccer games and movies and work. It was decided that they were just another 'boring lesbian couple' and the press ran off to the next big thing. All the while, Miranda's shield was fast becoming tarnished and brittle.

It would all come to a head this week. Right off from Monday Miranda could tell the week was going to be a long, hard one. The girls were finally getting busy with the new school term and settling down into the homework routine was one battle after another, then there was work of course. Irv was in the mood to fight this week and Andrea wasn't fairing much better, fighting for a series of articles that had real merit and deserved to be published in their entirety. Everyone was tired and moods were in a general state of _horrible_.

By the time Miranda got around to tucking in the girl's last night, Andrea was shut up in the bathroom soaking in as much hot water as the tub would hold. She had not eaten dinner and Miranda almost asked her twice if she wanted something but didn't. If Andrea wanted to eat then she would. The more Miranda doted on her, the more scars her shield sustained so Miranda tried her best to steer clear of such activities. But it was more than that. Not only had she not eaten, she'd hardly said two words since Miranda had come home. That at least Miranda had called her on and was reassured that Andrea was '_just tired…rough day…work sucked_.' Miranda knew all too well what that felt like. She also knew what it felt like to wish for someone to just hold you at the end of it all and know that you were safe and loved.

So…Miranda gave in. But only a little. She was going to do just enough to get by. Sure that Andrea was only half way through her soak, Miranda went down to the kitchen and procured a glass of wine for herself and two vile and cheap Coors Light's for the tired girl drowning herself in the bathtub upstairs.

She didn't bother to knock and once Andrea saw the beer she didn't seem to mind Miranda's company in the least. Quietly, she sat on the floor by the tub and kept the conversation light and free from topics of work. Miranda knew that when Andrea was ready she would unload all that ailed her. Soon the beer and hot water did their work and she told Miranda all about her boss '_from hell_', which Miranda found hilarious because she envisioned that title was reserved for her alone. It appeared that Mr. Greg Wilson really was an unmitigated pain in the ass. Miranda made a mental note to do something to quicken his demise. He and Irv would make a great couple and she told Andrea so which almost caused her to drop her precious beer right into the tub.

A while later it was revealed that Andrea had received a call from her grandmother that day. Parents and grandparents weren't a topic that was brought up often in this house but then again it was also something Miranda never once asked about in an effort to not get too involved. She decided to give in here too and did indeed ask questions. It turns out that the only grandparent Andrea had left was quiet possibly reaching the end of her journey. This produced some tears from Andrea and almost…_almost_ from Miranda too because she hated to see Andrea cry and this reminded Miranda of the losses she'd experienced in her own life.

A quiet fell over the bathroom after this topic had drained itself out and Miranda was at a bit of a loss as to what to say next. She'd never really been good at this…being supportive. Couple that with her desire to stay at an arm's length from this woman that had a hold of her heart with both hands and it was hard to know what to do. After all, she'd already given in twice tonight. How far could she go and remain intact?

Suddenly she was asked to turn the lights out. Miranda questioned this and was met with a '_sometimes in the dark we have some pretty good talks, don't you think_?' This was true and it always mystified Miranda. Countless meaningful conversations had been had in the dark before they fell asleep. It might be about anything in the world but it always seemed easier for Miranda…maybe both of them, to open in up in the darkness.

Miranda gave no further questions and turned the light out, carefully making her way back to her place on the floor. For a bit they talked about work some more. Miranda held forth on Emily's latest antics and her apparent infatuation with Serena. Ironically, this wasn't news to Andrea. Miranda wondered what _else_ was going on in her office that she had no idea of. Perhaps it was better that she not know.

To get more comfortable Miranda turned and leaned against the tub but still faced Andrea who was taking care of her second beer. Silence fell back over them while she finished it but soon Miranda heard the bottle being set on the floor and then she heard Andrea lean back against the tub again.

"Hey." Andrea whispered and Miranda felt the tips of her wet fingers on her arm. She reached out and their hands met on the side, fingers lacing together for the first time that evening.

"Yes?" Miranda had absolutely no idea why there was a golf ball in her throat right now but it was certainly there.

"Thank you…thank you for coming in here. For the beer." She chuckled and Miranda knew Andrea was rolling her eyes at her own silliness.

"You're welcome. I just…I thought you could use it."

"Miranda, you're very sweet you know. I always knew you were but I love you for showing that to me. It means a lot. Especially on days like today."

Miranda could feel her shield buckle. "Well I just…you know I'm not completely unfeeling. You are…" Miranda didn't get a chance to finish her sentence. It was like Andrea was trying to save her from herself again.

"I know Miranda…I know you love me."

Miranda felt her heart and her hand squeezed all at the same time. How was it always so easy for her? "Andrea, how is it so easy for you? To be with me? To say the things you do?"

"It just is Miranda. The hardest part was figuring out what I wanted. Once I figured that out…the rest was all downhill to my goal."

"Downhill doesn't sound very good." Indeed.

"I don't mean 'downhill' as in a bad way. I mean it was just that I'd gotten over the hard part. The hard part was done and all that was left was to get what I wanted. I knew I could do it."

Now Andrea's hand was resting on top of hers, holding it gently. "What is it exactly that you wanted?"

"Just you. Just you, just like this. I knew we could get here and you proved me right."

Miranda let her head drop back a little. It was happening and it felt like Miranda couldn't stop it. Her shield was bending under the tremendous force of Andrea's will. "I proved you right? I hardly see that as the truth. You've just…this was all…you." There was no other way to say it because Miranda knew in her heart that if Andrea hadn't been so strong, so relentless, that Miranda may very well have never found herself sitting here on her bathroom floor in the dark.

"It was _us_ but I'll let you deny it forever if you want. It doesn't matter."

It did matter. She was just saying that so Miranda didn't get upset or clam up or…worse. She was afraid of losing Miranda, which was plain to see. "You put up a good front, Andrea." As soon as the words left her lips she felt Andrea flinch and move her hand. Miranda reached out in the dark and grabbed it. "Don't." So Andrea let her hand remain. "You've fought so hard for me yet you allow me to get away with unspeakable things…"

"Miranda…baby, I'm not going to force you or ask you to say things you can't say. And hey, I wasn't alone in this. You kept it going as much as I did and you know it. You've just got more class than I do…" She laughed and patted Miranda's hand. "It was all what I wanted…slow…easy."

"You thought so?"

"I did and I do. I like what we have Miranda. This is what I wanted…no glitz, no sparkle, just you and me and those two red heads upstairs. I wanted a family and that's exactly what I got. And you know what else?"

"What?"

"I know that you love me. You show me every day. I'm not going to profess that I know exactly why you won't tell me that in words but honestly it really is okay."

But it wasn't. It wasn't okay…because if it was _okay_ then why was Andrea crying? She probably didn't think Miranda could tell because it was dark but it was clearly seeping through her voice. "Why are you crying?"

"I'm not."

"Don't make me turn the light on."

"I'm fine, really."

Her voice was breaking just a little more and this couldn't go on. Miranda couldn't allow her to sit here in water like this…needing something that Miranda should have already given. Her heart.

"Get up darling. You're done here." Miranda stood up, turned on the light over the vanity and grabbed a towel. When she turned, Andrea was still sitting there staring at the wall and wiping her eyes. "Come…get up, please. Let me dry you off." There was no more argument but as she rose up out of the water Miranda could tell she was reluctant about where this conversation was going to go. Miranda helped her step out of the tub then wrapped one towel around her, using another towel to dry off her legs. She glanced up once and could see Andrea looking down at her and was reminded of the words uttered in their first embrace. Andrea had said '_Don't say anything mean, just let me hug you. I'm not going to hurt you, Miranda.' _

Miranda stood up again and enveloped her in a mirrored embrace from that night. She hung on tight and said "I'm such a fool, Andrea. Such a fool." Andrea tried to pull out of her arms but Miranda wouldn't let her. "You're afraid of losing me…I can tell. That's why you are always so accepting of what I think I _can_ and _cannot_ say…isn't it?"

"Maybe."

Finally, Andrea rested her head on Miranda's shoulder and Miranda rubbed her back, still not letting go. "I know that you love me, Andrea. You show me that…you tell me that. Every day you tell me that, and I know you say you do not care and that it does not matter. But it does, it's unacceptable for me to lie to you darling…to not tell you how I feel."

"I know how you feel already."

Miranda shook her head and let go of the woman only to take her hand and lead her to the bed, turning out all the lights along the way. "You _think_ you know…but you don't." She said softly as she pulled back the covers and removed the towel that was wrapped tightly around Andrea's body. "I'm going to show you…and tell you…like I should have a long time ago."

Miranda pushed her down onto the bed gently and removed her own robe and night shirt that just happened to be one of Andrea's many t-shirts. No one could ever find out Miranda Priestly wore those old ratty things to bed. Not ever.

Quietly she went over to her side of the bed and got in, promptly scooting toward the middle where Andrea was waiting for her. Always in the middle. Once she reached Andrea, Miranda pulled her in close and wrapped both arms around her again.

After thinking about it for a minute or two more Miranda realized just how easy it would be and how it really was acceptable to love and be loved. It could happen. It was possible. Maybe she just had to change like a season…from summer to fall? Maybe she just needed to let go of the armor?

"Andrea…I love you, darling. I love you…I love you…"

By morning Miranda would have whispered that to Andrea about fifty times, maybe more - before, after, during and in between making love to her in every way asked. Somewhere in that time, Miranda's beloved shield that she had been holding for so many years finally broke and landed on the floor at her feet.

Now here she was, sitting on the side of the bed looking at the woman who had taken it all, stripped her bare, slowly and methodically, leaving Miranda little choice but to just let it happen. She knew that no matter what, no matter the reasons that might come, Miranda was never going to be able to have that armor re-made. It just wasn't possible.

THE END


	10. Song 10 - Carrion

Title: Carrion – Song 10

CD: Tidal by Fiona Apple

Beta: Peetsden

Fandom: Devil Wears Prada

Pairing: Miranda/Andy

Rating: PG13

Disclaimer: I don't own Devil Wears Prada or Fiona Apple.

_Note: This song is a companion piece to Never is a Promise. _

_**Carrion **_

Okay, how much time does it take to get your crap and get off of a plane? Apparently hours and hours and _hours_. Or at least that's what it felt like as Andy watched all the people ahead of her struggle with their bags and slowly make their way down the aisle. Next time she met her sister in Italy for a vacation, she was going first-class. Seriously, because _this_ was completely ridiculous.

Andy adjusted the straps of her backpack one more time and decided to go ahead and turn her cell phone on while she waited for everyone in front of her to show some signs of life. Hopefully it was fully charged and hopefully it wasn't full of pointless voicemails from people she didn't care about. There was only _one_ person she was interested in hearing from and Andy was making that phone call herself in about thirty minutes. _Yes_…her cell phone was fully charged.

Finally the line began to move and Andy grew anxious. Her luggage better be easy to find and the lines in Customs had better be nice and short otherwise she'd just have to break about a hundred laws. One week was long enough. She loved her sister but she was ready to be home for more than one reason. Next summer her _reason_ would just have to make this trip with her. Seriously, because _this_ was completely ridiculous.

After saying goodbye to the freakishly robotic flight attendants Andy began to make the trek down the concourse. This backpack was heavy…and to think, she actually cleaned it out before she left to make room for the watercolor pencils. There was no way those were going in her luggage. _No way_.

Hearing the familiar ring of her phone, Andy moved to a near-by wall to get out of everyone's way. Maybe _someone_ couldn't wait thirty minutes? And that was absolutely fine. More than fine.

"Hey!" She said, not bothering to check the caller id because who else would be?

"Hey…I can't believe you answered this time."

Okay…that was definitely _not_ the person she was expecting to hear from. Not at all. "_Nate…_"

"Yeah…that's my name in case you've forgotten."

He already sounded kinda ticked off. This wasn't surprising since every time he called, Andy never answered the phone. Like as in never _ever_…and he'd been calling for six months. So that was a whole lot of unanswered phone calls. "Nope…haven't forgotten. What can I do for you, Nate."

"What can I do for you, Nate? _Ouch_. You never answer my calls."

"No, I don't. Why should I?" That's right. Why should she? It was done and she had most certainly moved on. Speaking of moving…Andy hefted up her backpack one more time and began following the signs again to her destination: _Out_ of this fucking airport.

"Gee Andy why do you have to be like that? I just wanted to talk. It's been six months."

"Yeah…listen Nate I'm trying to get out of an airport here so if you could just say whatever it is you gotta say – I'd be grateful."

"Oh…I see. Where did you go? Romantic weekend getaway?"

Oh, gross. Well actually that would have been nice. Just not with him. "No, I was with my sister you _idiot_. Now what do you want?"

"I want you, Andy."

"What!" Andy yelled into the phone and walked right into the person stopped in front of her. "Wow…sorry, sorry!" She waved to the guy she'd just plowed into and kept moving. "Nate, what in the fuck is wrong with you?"

"What do you mean what's wrong with me? I want you back. I want us back."

"Oh for the love of God you can't be serious! Have you forgotten what it was like? Hello – you _hate_ me." Spotting the baggage claim area Andy found the exact spot she needed to be at and prepared to watch for her bags while listening to this _fool_ all at the same time. If he made her miss her luggage on the first round she was going to kill him.

"I'm serious. Andy, we were good together…and now you don't work at _Runway_…it could be like it used to be."

Whatever. "No, Nate. No it couldn't. I'm not that girl anymore and _that_ has pretty much nothing to do with _Runway_. It's called growing up. You would know that if you tried it." For real. Get a life and leave hers alone.

"I am a grown up. Thank you very much. Look Andy we need each other. I'm not the same without you and I bet you're not the same without me either."

"Damn right." She mumbled as she scanned the bags coming down the line. So far, Mr. & Mrs. Louis Vuitton had yet to be seen. Hopefully they would show up soon…she loved those bags. Talk about the coolest birthday gift ever…

"What?"

"What?" Oh, did she miss something?

"You said 'damn right'."

"Oh! Yeah...you said I wasn't the same without you…and I said damn right. No lie." She knew she was being cold but seriously didn't care. Oh, yay. Here come the bags now. Andy moved through a few people and thankfully was able to get both bags off the line in one try. "Hang on Nate…gotta get my bags situated." More like check them over for damage. There would be hell to pay otherwise and this airport would have someone else's name on the front of it by the time that certain _someone_ got their way. After her bags were deemed in good shape, Andy made her way toward yet another long line, which actually for once wasn't that long at all. Thank God. "Okay. I'm back. Now can ya finish up because I really need to get off the phone?"

"Alright fine. I just want you to know that I still love you Andy and I want another chance."

"Nate, we talked about all this before…at that café, remember? We said our peace…you went your way and I went mine. So what the fuck? I am not going backwards don't you get it?" Argh the line was slowing down. Why was it so much harder to get back _in_ your country than it was to get out of it?

"I want you back."

Abso-fucking-lutely _not_. Did he really just say that? _Again_? Was this some sort of recording on an endless loop? She was about to reach the last obstacle that was between her and the remaining distance to the door so this phone call needed to be over with. Once and for all.

"Nate, I want you to listen to me…like really, really listen to me. Are you listening?"

"Yeah. I'm listening, Andy."

"Good because this is the last time I'm talking to you about this. First of all – you left me. Not the other way around. This is what you wanted and you got it. So deal with it. I know I sure as hell have. I've moved on. I used to worry myself sick about trying to save our relationship but you know what? All I really needed was the strength to walk away. Nothing needed saving and it _still_ doesn't. Sometimes I'm a slow learner but I've got it all figured out finally. _Thank God_. Second of all – You need to move on Nate. I mean seriously, you're like a dead animal laying in the road waiting for someone to come scoop you up. That's not gonna happen. I'm not the one. You're going to have to get yourself up. Thirdly – Nothing you try is going to work. Not threats, not intimidation…not whining…nothing. So please leave me alone. No more phone calls, no more e-mails, no more voicemails, no more anything. That's all." Andy ended the call and took a big breath since she had pretty much said all _that_ in one…and it felt good. Really good. Really, really, fucking good. She should have told him off like that a long time ago.

Okay, now she was next in line. All she had to do from here was chit-chat with the nice guy behind the counter and then walk through the door. But no! When she got done chit-chatting she realized that the other side of the door was only _another_ long hallway and more people. Not what she wanted.

Unable to wait any longer Andy whipped her cell phone back out and dialed the number of the one and only person she really wanted to be talking to right now. It wasn't quite thirty minutes but whatever. No one was keeping count. Andy adjusted her backpack one more time and began the long, slow walk…with all these bags…and waited for the sexiest voice on Earth to answer the phone.

"Darling, hello." Miranda sounded cool and calm which meant she was probably jumping up and down inside. It was her way...

"Hey! I can't wait to see you. Don't get me wrong – walking all over Italy with my sister is the bomb but if it had been for one more day I'm pretty sure I would have died." Seriously.

"Andrea, don't be so dramatic. You would not have died. Your feet might have…but the rest of you would have been fine." Miranda was probably rolling her eyes and thinking she was the most ridiculous thing ever. Oh well.

"No, I'm pretty sure I would have died. Just trust me. Hey, I got you something."

"What's that?"

"Watercolor pencils." Andy was very proud of those. She found them in Florence and managed to carry them a long way without dropping or breaking any. How cool is that? Pretty fucking cool in her eyes.

"You had to go all the way to Italy to procure watercolor pencils?" If Andy wasn't so good at deciphering 'Miranda Speak' she would have been hurt. But - Miranda was just messing with her.

"No…silly. But I saw them and they look cool – so? You have watercolor pencils now. I might even try them."

"Darling, your artistic talent consists of staying between the lines in a coloring book…but if you insist."

"Hey, shut up! I'll have you know my Superman coloring book is a true work of art."

"Yes…I'm sure. Where are you?"

"I'm headed for the door…probably ten minutes away. The lines were…argh. Oh, and guess what."

"What?" Andy could tell Miranda was getting agitated. Not with her…but with time and distance. She could certainly sympathize.

"I got the most fucked up phone call just before I called you…totally fucked up. It was _Nate_. Can you believe that shit?"

There was a few seconds of silence then, "Yes, darling…_yes_ I can."

Andy pulled her luggage behind her a little faster as she caught site of the end and continued on about Nate. "I mean I was so pissed! He's crazy Miranda. I'm telling you - abso-fucking-lutely crazy. He wants me back! Can you believe that shit?"

"_Yes_, I can."

"I mean he used to hate me and for fucks sakes get this – he still thinks _Runway_ was the sole reason that shit hit the fan between us."

"Well darling…in a way it was." Miranda laughed and Andy was thankful she was taking this so well. Andy wasn't about to start hiding stuff from her and it felt good to vent and just get it out of the way.

"Yeah, yeah…probably. I mean my boss was smokin' hot! I couldn't help myself ya know…"

"_Yes_…I know."

"Shut up—I can _hear_ you blushing. Anyway, I basically told him off. No…there's no _basically_ about it. I _did_ tell him off; and then I told him to not call me again. You know he's been calling for six months? I just never answer the phone! I thought it was you this time and didn't look at the caller id."

"That must have been utterly horrible." Andy smiled at Miranda's sarcasm and kept right on going.

"I know, _right_? I could have kicked myself. But there's no need for _that_ because I've been beat up enough by my luggage…I love these bags…just not when I'm by myself. Too much."

"And you are rather uncoordinated. Darling…you look gorgeous with that tan but I do hope you remembered to wear sunscreen now and again."

"Oh, it's not that bad…wait…."

"Look to your left, Andrea."

What? Andy stopped and of course almost got ran over but looked to her left as asked. There she was. Miranda Priestly, in the flesh, right here in the airport. Waiting for her. "You couldn't wait, could you?"

"_No_. I could _not_. Now hang up your phone, silly."

With the biggest smile on her face, Andy completely forgot all about Nate. She even forgot all about Italy and her tired feet and these insanely heavy bags. All she could remember now was how much she loved this woman who was impatiently tapping her foot with a hand on her hip. All she could remember now was the first time they kissed not two weeks after seeing each other across the street and how they had made love not two weeks after _that_.

While she was busy remembering all of _that_, Miranda got tired of waiting and came forward. She grabbed Andy, not caring about her heavy backpack or luggage that she was still holding, and kissed her like one week had actually been a hundred.

Finally breaking away Andy looked in Miranda's eyes and was a little taken aback but what she saw there. "Miranda?" She questioned, still wrapped up in Miranda's arms right here in the middle of this airport.

"Yes?" Miranda smiled and kissed her forehead.

"Uh, honey. We're in the middle of an airport you know…and you're _still_ Miranda Priestly…and you're _still_ not divorced…and people have camera's."

"An airport is only a building." Miranda said, shaking her head a little. "And yes, I'm still Miranda Priestly…and I just told Stephen to stop _calling_ me, and to stop _stalling_—in my _own_ nasty little phone call. And I _don't_ care about cameras. And…I love you. And _that_, darling, is much more important than anything else. Wouldn't you agree?" Miranda kissed her again and through a few silly tears Andy kissed her back; glad to be home…and loved.

THE END


End file.
